


The Enemy You Know

by ArtemisEmrys



Series: The Enemy You Know Series [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: But it's not major to the plot, Mentions of Rape, Pre-Earth Transformers, Slow Burn, Starsream and Megatron's relationship is fragged, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisEmrys/pseuds/ArtemisEmrys
Summary: What if Starscream had still been alive at the end of T3: DotM? What if he had watched as Megatron was killed? How will he navigate the new world he's found himself in? Includes troubled trinemates, sexual frustration, idiotic mini-cons, and an Ironhide that just wants to help.





	1. Crash Landing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Transformers AU fic where Ratchet, Ironhide, and Starscream are alive at the end of T3: DotM. Sam never dated Carli and is currently good friends with Mikaela. Ironhide has never met Warp or TC outside of battle. I m also including Cybertronian characters that were left out of the Bayverse, but may be found in other continuities.

The cry they heard a few moments after Megatron’s body was thrown to the ground was terrible, full of anguish and rage.

Optimus and Ironhide were forced to jump back as a large, tan shape hurtled towards them from the buildings above them, transformed, and immediately began to thrash at the still figure of their fallen enemy at their pedes.

“You fraggin’, pit-spawned piece of scrap metal! You promised me! How can you leave me here!” The garbled, high pitched Cybertronian grated on the ears and audio receivers of the humans and mechs who stood transfixed, shocked by the scene. The humans couldn’t understand the worlds, but the message was clear: Starscream was beyond pissed.

Optimus was the first to break out of the spell he was under, realizing it was Starscream before him, who was simultaneously ripping parts from the frame of his dead leader and screaming out his rage and terror. Optimus threw out his uninjured arm to stall Ironhide, who had moved forward to either seize or attack Starscream. He wanted to know what was happening here. He also couldn’t let a creature in so much obvious pain be harmed under his watch: it would be wrong, despite the fact that Starscream was one of their most formidable enemies. They were no longer engaged in battle, and Autobots didn’t kill out of cold blood. Ironhide shot him a questioning look out of the corner of his optics, but Optimus just shook his heLM and commed for him to wait.

The high-pitched moans suddenly stopped; the intersection they were on was starkly silent after the grating screeches from Starscream and the sound of metal rending metal ceased. The enraged mech suddenly slumped forward on his feet, standing ominously still and staring at a piece of scrap metal, possibly a piece of Megatron, that he had been using to bat at the fallen mech. Optimus suddenly knew what was going to happen a second before it occurred, and shot forward, reaching Starscream just in enough time to stop the metal shard from piercing more than just the outer casing of his spark chamber.

“Noooooo!” Starscream struggled ferociously to break Optimus’s one-armed grip, but the large mech had nearly twice his physical strength, and even when injured and missing an arm, could hold him. The seeker continued his fight, scratching his own armor and Optimus’s, and grating on sensitive nodes as he tried to pierce his own armor with the scrap piece. “Frag it, let me go! You have no right to hold me here! He’s dead! You killed him! I’ll kill you all, I’ll kill-!” 

The square was suddenly silent again as Optimus wirelessly commanded Ratchet to hurry over and turn Starscream temporarily offline. Ratchet did so efficiently, large digits quickly finding the right panels, and not hesitating to follow the command of his Prime, despite the odd situation they found themselves in.

Optimus let a harsh gust slip from his vents. The celebratory mood that had been building just a moment ago had disappeared completely at this turn of events. He looked down at the still form gripped under his uninjured arm, then at the ravaged form of Megatron on the pavement and vented again. Regret for everything that had been lost in this war momentarily left him stunned. He shook himself mentally. No, now was not the time for doubt, but for decisiveness. He handed Starscream off to Ironhide, who could easily carry him, slender and lightweight as the seeker was. 

“I…think it’s time we returned to the base. Ironhide, bring Starscream, and keep him in stasis until we arrive. Ratchet, help the human contingent with their injured, then follow. I think it’s time we put this fight behind us permanently.”

Ironhide grimaced at being made to carry an enemy mech, but nodded, still not sure why Optimus wanted to help Starscream, of all mechs. But Optimus was their leader, and Ironhide was nothing if not loyal. He slung the dead weight of the mech over one shoulder joint and followed behind his Prime, Bumblebee, and the other surviving Autobots towards the cargo ship that would take them back to base, and hopefully, some rest and explanations.

“Autobots,” Optimus looked around himself one more time; a sobering look at all the loss of life and opportunity around them. Had they really won this war, or had they lost more than could be recovered? So much wasted, so many fallen comrades. Once again he pushed these thoughts to the back of his processor. He’d retrieve them later and look them over in private. “Roll out.”

\---------------------------------------o------------------------------------------------

Starscream let himself slowly drift out of his enforced recharge. He was in pain, but his processors had not yet fully come online, and he could not retrieve the memory of where that pain came from. He just knew it was terrible and not at all physical. He was in no hurry to fully recall all those details, so he let himself drift slowly upward into consciousness. His audio units clicked on before his optics and he cycled them once, becoming aware of low murmuring in Cybertronian in the distance and the fact that he was strapped tightly to a hard surface, probably a medical berth by the bleeps and hisses of equipment that he could hear around him. The voices steadily became clearer as his processor sluggishly revved up.

“...but I just don’t understand why we’re helping him, Prime. You of all mechs know how many of our soldiers he’sk illed.” Starscream blearily recognized that voice, although with his optics shuttered and powered down, he could not see the other bot. They seemed to be in another room, at any rate.

“Because it is the right thing to do, Ironhide. Until he is healed, we must treat him as a prisoner of war, and that includes appropriate medical attention. After that…” There was a poignant pause, “After that, we shall have to wait and see.”

Starscream definitely recognized that voice. Prime. The one who had killed his Megatron on the battlefield and stopped Starscream from following him to the Pits. Their eternal enemy… who was now going to protect and heal him? Starscream barely stifled a snort over how soft the Autobot leader was behaving. A Decepticon would have crushed his spark while he was offline. He wanted to hear what they had planned for him, so he quieted himself. It wouldn’t do for them to know he was online quite yet.

Then there was Ironhide. Starscream did not recall many interactions with that particular bot, and the few he did involved intense battle. This didn’t bode too well for him.

There was a loud snort –Starscream assumed it must be Ironhide, as he couldn’t imagine Prime making such a noise- and the sound of hydraulics releasing and a dull clang as a mech sat on the concrete floor. “Well, I don’t know how you plan to handle him, but you better have it figured soon. Ratchet says he’s gonna be up soon, and I doubt the fragger's is gonna be happy to be here.”

‘That’s why I’m assigning him to you, Ironhide,” intoned Prime.

There was a loud clank, “Now, wait just a moment! Why me?”

That had Starscream cycling on his optics in a hurry. Prime was going to keep him here under guard? He was being placed under the watch of the belligerent bulkhead who had slagged so many of his troops? Maybe Prime was not as kind and naive as Starscream once believed.

“I am needed to play politics with the human government to assure our ability to stay on this planet. Ratchet is too busy repairing bots and humans, as well as multiple other projects he is initializing to allow us to produce energon, create housing, and stay here on the base without disrupting the humans. Bumblebee is with Sam. We will be most likely out of battle for some time now as both sides recover. As my second in command here on Earth and weapons master, I trust in your ability to handle a mech of Starscream’s skill and follow my commands to not have him harmed.”

The other mech mumbled something that Starscream couldn’t understand and then vented loudly, “Fine, but don’t expect me to take his slag. He’ll get a good slap around if he can’t mind himself around me!”

“I would never expect that, old friend. Just make sure he comes to no harm from the others… nor himself.” There was silence at that. Starscream could understand why. Self induced off-line, what the humans called ‘suicide’ was decidedly rare among Cybertronians. Only extremely glitched mechs had ever been known to attempt it; those whose processor’s were usually considered irreparable or in an extreme state of defrag that usually only came with advanced age. That Starscream had attempted to douse his spark had probably shocked all the Autobots and made them wonder at the mental state of their prisoner.

Starscream snorted lightly through his vent panel: He didn’t care what they thought of him. He had reasons for what he did: Reasons none of them would find out, if he had a say in it at all. 

The silence was broken by a third Cybertronian voice. Starscream had assumed there were only two.

“There’s something else.”

Pause. “What is it Ratchet?” asked Prime.

“I performed some base medical scans on Starscream while he was temporarily offline, and the results were… unexpected, to say the least.”

Starscream’s spark shuddered in his chest. No. No, they couldn’t know. He hadn’t counted on one of them scanning him for medical problems other than his ruptured armor and spark chamber. He had kept this secret from everyone except Megatron and had planned to go to his grave with it when he saw Megatron’s mangled frame lying in that filthy human street. Now that was all over. What was he going to do?

“Scans indicate that Starscream is… with spark,” Ratchet intoned seriously, “And, rather far along, I might add.”

The silence was thick.

“He’s… he’s what?” stuttered Ironhide, “How?”

Ratchet snorted, “I’m sure you know how, ‘Hide. I said, he’s with spark, or ‘sparking’ as it were. We’re going to have a little Starscream running around the base in a few weeks time if all goes well.”

“Primus.”

“Indeed,” sighed Ratchet.

Starscream jerked when Optimus spoke, he had forgotten the other mech was even in the room. “Do we know who the other creator is?”

“Take a wild guess,” Ratchet replied. Starscream could hear he amusement lacing his tone.

Starscream stared at the ceiling above him, rough with pipes and cords, and felt the cold of the metal berth seep into his wings. Primus. What was he going to do? Megatron had promised him. He promised that he wouldn’t have to be going through this alone. That was all empty words, lies even to his strained processor. He should have known better and purged the little spark the day he discovered its presence. Now it was too late for that.  
Megatron and he hadn’t been trying for a spark, but they hadn’t exactly been trying to prevent one either. Sparklings were rare for Cybertronians at the best of times, but especially during times of great stress. Most Cybertronian frame’s shut down their reproductive protocols while the host bot was under extreme duress. Starscream’s body had decided to become the exception to the rule.

Megatron had wanted to keep it. Said it was the first sparkling in hundreds of earth years. He wanted to raise it to see the new Cybertron after the Autobots were all destroyed. He had whispered to Starscream that he couldn’t wait to see what the little one would grow into.

Starscream bit back on a sob that threatened to break his vocalizer.

He was really left with nothing now.

The worst part was that he knew what every mech would think of him when his secret was out: Megatron’s little plaything, spreading his legs to rise in rank. And the fact that he had tried to offline himself would only make it worse. Harming oneself or others was frowned upon in Cybertronian society (excepting a war situation like they were under), but harming a Cybertronian child was an atrocity. They were so rare that each sparkling was treated as invaluable and they were protected under the strictest of laws.

He’d be ostracized by even the other Decepticons when it got out that he had tried to off-line himself while in such an advanced state of sparking, no matter the circumstances.They would see him as weak, unfit to lead them now that Megatron was...was... He could never go back. 

Starscream wished he could off-line his processor now through thought alone.

Prime was once again the one to break the stunned silence, “Well, that means that we’ll have to be even more diligent in protecting him and his sparkling. Let’s keep this between us for now.” There was a sound of shifting gears and several heavy footsteps, “I have to meet now with the secretary of defense. Ratchet, keep me updated on the repairs and any changes in Starscream’s condition. Ironhide…” A low vent, “Just watch out for him, and don’t let any harm come to him or anybot. He’ll need help settling in here and adapting. I don't plan for him to rust sitting in our brig. He’ll just have to learn to deal with the changes. I don't believe he has anywhere else to go after that scene on the battlefield. We will watch him closely." The sound of footsteps was moving away." I’m sure you can handle it, but message me if you need anything.”

“Yes, Prime. You do know you owe me for this, don’t’cha, Optimus?”

Starscream could hear the amusement in the deep voice, “Of course, old friend.” Heavy footsteps getting progressively distant indicated that Prime had made his way out of the medical bay and a second, lighter set of steps told him one of the other bots had moved off as well. There was blessed silence for a long while, and Starscream thought he had been left alone for the moment.

He was working himself into a good wallow when the sound of shifting hydraulics and a low moan alerted him to the fact that another mech was still in the adjacent room. Hollowly clanging footsteps got closer to the door that separated him from the other bot, and Starscream hastily shuttered his optics and strengthened his firewalls to prevent any unintentional wireless information sharing.

He listened as the heavy steps of the other bot entered the room, the doors automatically opening with a swish. The bot paused briefly, then stepped forward until he reached the side of Starscream’s berth and paused again. There was quiet as Starscream wondered what the other would do, if anything, until the shifting of gears and hydraulics told him that the other mech had sat down on the floor by the berth. There was once again silence, and Starscream found himself dozing halfway between alert and recharge.

A soft sigh brought him out of it slightly. “I guess it’s my job to take care of you now,” Ironhide whispered. Starscream didn’t have a response to that, and was glad the other mech thought him asleep. Heassumed that he was only talking about the sparkling, anyhow. Why would any Autobot want to care for Starscream? He allowed himself to slip into a tense recharge, knowing that there was little he could do about his situation at the time, anyhow.  
He wanted to be fully recharged and awake for whenever the hammer dropped and the kind treatment he was receiving was shown to be as false as he was sure it was.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------o--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nearly two weeks later Ironhide had just about had enough. Ratchet had reluctantly released the Decepticon prisoner into solitary confinement a week and a half ago. The raging fight that all of the bots had been expecting when Starscream completely onlined never happened. The mech had been sulky and resistant to following the simplest orders, but the murderous rage from earlier seemed to have left him for good. For days, Ironhide had watched the mech sink slowly into himself, speaking to no one, and spending most of his time settled on his berth staring at the bare walls of his confinement cell.

Even offered energon and fuel supply went untouched, and that was what worried Ironhide the most. He knew a growing sparkling and its host creator needed more fuel than a mech normally would, and Starscream’s refusal to eat was putting the young one’s life in danger. He only was getting nutrients whn Ratchet forced him to accept energon lines in the med-bay.

He stomped over to the mech in the cell. “You have to refuel.”

Silence.

Ironhide sighed, moving into the cell from from his place by the door, grabbing the energon and fuel containers, and slamming them on the berth next to the sullen mech. Starscream didn’t so much as turn to look at him, and Ironhide's engines growled low in frustration.

“If you don’t refuel, you’ll shut down. Is that what you want?” Starscream continued to stare at the blank grey wall opposite the berth, the only sign he’d heard the other mech was a deepening of the sneer on his face and a slight whir of noise as he rotated his optics.

Ironhide vented harshly, “And what about your sparkling? You want its systems to fail before it’s even formed properly?” This caused the first reaction Ironhide had seen in over a day of silence. Starscream flinched slightly and his helm turned slowly so that he could glance at Ironhide through half-shuttered optics.

His expression unnerved Ironhide slightly: His optics were dull, almost blank, and without any luminescence. The ever present sneer seemed brittle and twisted his faceplates into something grotesque.

“Yesss.” He hissed, “I don’t want it. I want it gone from me. You can have it, if it means so much to you, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”

Ironhide was shocked, then enraged. He’d never met anybot with such disregard for life, especially the life of a sparkling. He prowled forward and caught the other mech by the back of his helm, wrenching it backward. Starscream snarled in protest as Ironhide uncapped the energon container and practically forced the whole thing down the other bot’s throat.

Spluttering and cursing his name, Starscream shoved the bigger mech away from him. “Leave me alone! It’s none of your concern what I do!” He hurled the container at Ironhide’s head, which he barely ducked, and surged to his feet. “What do you care whether I live or die? I’m a prisoner here, alone. What sort of life do you expect I or any child of Megatron’s to have on the backwards little slag pit of a planet run by Autobots and the great and mighty Prime?” He snarled sarcastically, and his whole frame shuddered as he collapsed against the berth. “It’s over; I have nothing left to live for here, and nowhere to return to.” He shuttered his optics tightly. “You took him from me.” 

The mech looked devastated.

Ironhide sighed sharply, and made a quick decision. He grimaced and sat on the berth beside the other mech. “Prime will make a place for you here.”

Starscream scooted away from the bigger mech, sneering, but keeping his optics tightly closed. “A life surrounded by enemies that hate the very sight of me? That’s some life. That is of course where I’d want to raise a sparkling and spend all the cycles I have left before me.” His wings flickered with a vibrating stutter. 

Despite the fact that only days ago he had been fighting to the death with this very bot, Ironhide was shocked and dismayed to see the mech behave this way. He expected screaming matches, fits of pique, even a little energon-shed. Starscream was known for being a survivor; he would do anything, say anything to keep on going one more day. This hollow shell of a mech before him grated on everything he thought he knew about Decepticons. Ironhide didn’t like it.

Keeping his distance, Ironhide regarded Starscream. Ironhide knew he wasn't the wisest of mechs, but he at least had to try. For the sparkling, if nothing else. “Yes. You’ll have ta deal with mechs who won’t forgive or forget easily. You’ve killed our fighters, and sent other mechs ta do even more damage ta our ranks.” Ironhide shifted, gears whirling. “But you have a responsibility ta your sparkling ta deal with it. It’s going ta need you. It’s going ta need ta be around other mechs, ta learn and ta be whole. You can’t abandon it.”

“But I don’t want it, don’t you understand!?” Starscream shrieked, slamming his hand down on the berth hard enough to crack his own finger plates.

“You don’t have a choice!” Ironhide reared up next to the other bot again, reached out, and shook him by the glass covering his chest plates. “You created it, and despite who else it was created by, it deserves a chance at life and freedom. That’s the right of ev'ry sentient being!”

The both paused, staring at each other. The silenced stretched until a surprised chuckled forced itself pass Starscream’s vocalizer. Ironhide released his grip and slumped down on the berth, placing his helm between his own hands and chuckling helplessly along with Starscream.

“I didn’t just say that.” Ironhide wheezed.

“You did.” Starscream’s laughter was slightly hysterical. He tried to muffle it in a servo.

“I should eat one of my own cannons. Primus! I’m starting ta sound like Optimus…” Ironhide looked out from between his digits. “You still need ta recharge. Then we’ll have Ratchet take a look at your fingers.” Spontaneously, Ironhide reached out and grabbed the bent plating. “Did yourself a number there, didn’t ya?”

Starscream winced and tugged his aching hand away. After a long pause, he then slowly reached out took another container of energon and a few fuel tabs, and hesitantly scooted away from Ironhide. Locking his gaze back on the blank metal wall, he sipped at the energon. Then, as if suddenly realizing he hadn’t refueled in almost a week’s time, he downed the entire container and the fuel tabs in seconds, before hastily reaching for more.

Ironhide hid a grin as he watched the ravenous mech empty the entire tray within seconds. He then frowned as he realized he direly needed to talk to Optimus. In just a few short days his entire world had shifted. The grudging concern, and even affection, that he felt for his former enemy confused him. Why was it happening? Should he allow it?

Starscream was lightly framed. Up close, that was very apparent. Ironhide supposed he’d have to be lightly armored to fly quickly, but that meant he’d be easily harmed in battle. He’d have had to be extremely skilled and quick to escape unscathed as many times as he had. Ironhide admired such strength in a fighter, even if it had been for the wrong side. The seeker was young: Much younger than Ironhide himself, though older than their youngest recruit on base, Bumblebee, by quite a few human centuries. How must it have been for him in this war, following a tyrant like Megatron? Oh, Ironhide had no doubt that Starscream enjoyed the destruction and believed in the cause of the Decepticons, but it couldn’t have been easy being second in command to a heartless tyrant like Megatron. Ironhide had seen the warlord's horrible treatment of even his own mechs.

None of that explained why Ironhide felt the need to do right by this seeker. Millions of years of fighting and energon-shed, and watching the mech slowly fall into misery had changed his view. It wasn't just about protecting the sparkling. Ironhide wanted Starscream to recover, as well.

“After we get you repaired, we’ll talk ta Prime about getting you something ta do.” Ironhide stood and looked down at the smaller mech. “It’s about time you got out of this room and started pulling your own weight around here. Hark work will set you right, set your processors right. You'll see.”

Starscream looked at him dubiously, but didn’t protest. Maybe Ironhide had a point. Maybe if he could get his processors off all he had lost even for a moment, he’d find some way to make everything line up again. If he could find a niche here, among these bots, maybe he could attempt to raise his sparkling on his own. If he could get his thought processes off Megatron, for even just a nanosecond, maybe…

Right. When grounders fly.

\-----------------------------------------o--------------------------------------

Three weeks later, and Starscream was ready to bust some Autobot helms again. It wasn’t just the sneers and jeers, the thinly veiled insults and whispered threats: No, he had been expecting all of that from the beginning. Despite the fact that it was beginning to grate on his sensors, Starscream could tolerate it. It was the bulkheads and useless drones he was being forced to work with. Starscream, premier scientist and combat fighter, Air Commander of the Decepticons, was put on construction duty with hulking idiots and forced to build appropriate housing for the remaining Cybertronians on Earth.

Not that he didn’t agree that it needed to be done, it was just that he shouldn’t be the one doing it! He wasn’t built for heavy labor, and he had so much more to offer than lifting concrete slabs all day. He should be working on refining the energon replicators or medical technology- to the pits, he’d even take converting disgusting human fossil fuel into something that wouldn’t clog all their pipes.

But working with the construction builds was going to permanently glitch his sensors. And the humans! If working with bots who hated him wasn’t bad enough, the puny little bipedal cockroaches thought they could order him around like some common machine just because this was their base he was living on. They were unimaginably rude. Starscream snorted hard through his vents. Like the little scraps were smart enough to order around a calculator, let alone one such as himself. He was Starscream, slaggit!

Yet, if he said something to any of them, one of the other bots would be in his face in a nanosecond, and that was the last thing he needed.

Claws aching and struts tight, he growled and made his way quickly towards the room that had been designated his in order to avoid any lingering mechs or humans. He’d had enough of that for one cycle. Ironhide had been given the okay not to tail him when it became obvious he wasn’t going to try anything nefarious. And why would he? What could he possibly accomplish, and where would he go afterwards?

No, it was better to just keep his helm down and his wings close for now.

Ironhide’s release from guard duty apparently didn’t mean he wasn’t going to drop in on Starscream to ‘check up’ on him about once daily. After his long trek over the grounds of Diego Garcia, Starscream spotted him loitering outside the moderately sized hangar that served as his quarters. Starscream was one of the few mechs on the base to berth completely alone, for 'protection purposes' they said. That would be just fine if it wasn’t driving him completely out of his processors. He hadn’t been alone like this in a long time. He was always with Megatron or the crew of the Nemesis. Before that, he had his trine with him. It was actually good to see the weapons master there, trying not to look suspicious as he waited for Starscream.

He smirked evilly at Ironhide as he approached the hangar doors. “What do you want this time, Ironhide?” He slapped the panel on the side door, switching on his wireless capabilities and entering the numerical code needed to open his door before slipping inside. He held the door aloft, letting it slide down silently after Ironhide followed him inside.

He headed over to one of his large side shelves immediately, popped a cap on an energon container, and tossed the purple liquid back. He had to admit, despite all their faults, these bots knew how to make some fine mid-grade energon. Especially that Ratchet. It was a quality he hadn't seen since Vos.

“What’s got your bolts in a twist, Star? Have a good day at work?” Ironhide knew exactly how much Starscream hated his duty assignment from previous rants, and didn’t even side-step the energon container suddenly hurled towards his helm, just batted it away. “Now, now. Hard work does the body right. And you wouldn’t want your sparkling to see such violence from one of its creators so early on. You need to curb that instinct before the little one comes along.”

Starscream hissed. “Joke all you want.. It’s not in the least bit funny.” Ironhide sat back and watched the show, used to these rants after three straight weeks of complaints from the mech. “You should just listen to those bots I’m assigned to work with. Not enough gears in their processors to run a radio between them! I’m ready to throw in the tarp and go work with the disgusting little humans in reclamations. At least the conversation would be more intelligent!” Starscream snorted, “And then, I go to the medical bay to get a stripped joint fixed, and have to wait around for an hour watching Prime and his little medic dance around each other like prepubescent human younglings. Why doesn’t Prime just take the bot to berth all ready and save the rest of us from having to watch their courtship rituals?”

Ironhide let out an amused whir at that. He knew Optimus and Ratchet were in a relationship that seemed to cycle from intense to hesitant quicker than most could process it. Prime had taken Ratchet to berth many times, Ironhide knew, but it always seemed to be a fight or a delicate game of persuasion to get Ratchet to go along with anything. Ironhide himself had witnessed Prime try to toe the line many times, and couldn’t help but be amused at Starscream’s ire over it. He wasn’t going to give him any details, however. Let him suffer it out like the rest of them had to.

“Why don’t you tell them that then?”

Starscream looked at him with wide eyes, and then sneered, “Hah. Funny. I’m not suicidal. Ratchet’d take me apart in my sleep and I don’t think Prime would try to stop him.” Ironhide didn’t make the obvious comments about ’suicidality,’ but moved on to easier topics in order to ward off the second half of the rant he could see forming.

“Why don’t you ask Optimus to reassign you? It’s been nearly a month now, and no one’s had reason to complain about your work, attitude aside. I’m sure he’d at least consider it.”

Starscream ignored the implied slight on his ‘attitude.’ “You think he’d trust me with anything more important that soldering and hauling metal?” Starscream cycled his optics derisively, “I wouldn’t in his position.” 

“Optimus is nothing if not fair. He’ll at least listen and most likely, he’ll try ta find work that better suits your talents, with somebot who can stand your… er… unique temper'ment.” Starscream cycled his optics again. “You do realize that means you might end up working with humans and mechs in the science department, though? Think you can handle it without crushing the little bits?”

Starscream grimaced, but nodded his helm. “I can tolerate the beasts. I can tolerate almost anything if it gets me away from those clunk-heads in construction.” Starscream twitched his wings, “But if one more puny flesh-bag asks if she can “feel the baby kick” or whatever it is that they want, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Ironhide spluttered. “Some of them actually asked you that?”

Starscream seemed to pout a bit. “Yes. The one’s who don’t hate the sight of me seem to want to fawn all over me after Prime announced I was sparking. I still don’t agree with that, by the way. I don’t care what he says!” He stomped a foot petulantly and glared.

“Optimus was right. Telling everybot was for your and the sparkling’s protection. Not even the most unforgiving of mechs would attack a sparking bot. Notice that none of them have tried ta jump you since?” Ironhide waited for Starscream’s reluctant nod before asking, “How is it going, by the way? Processes all running smoothly?” He eyed the armor plates covering the approximate location of Starscream’s sparking chamber

Starscream ran a hand lightly over his chest-plates, head tilting in thought. "The protocols are initializing and running smoothly. Ratchet says everything is cycling down now. I’ll be in the cool down process soon.” He looked a bit troubled for a moment, but it was gone from his face plates so quickly that Ironhide wondered if his processors had made it up. “I’ll have a new little mech to raise in a few weeks time. Thank Primus they aren’t as useless as human younglings when they first emerge, or nothing would get accomplished.”

Ironhide had to agree with that. He didn’t like being around human babies. He remembered Lennox’s child that he used to bring around before the girl had grown large enough to enter the humans’ educational system. He’s always felt he was going to forget and squish the thing, and it wouldn’t have the sense or ability to scurry out of the way before it happened. He shook his helm to free himself of the disturbing image. “Have you picked out a designation for it yet?’

Starscream paused, his hand freezing where it had been gingerly rubbing his abdominal armor. He tensed, and said “I’ve picked a Cybertronian name for him.” He emitted a short but surprisingly melodic name in the shrill staticky language of the mechs.

“That’s nice. I wouldn’t have thought of naming it after one of the Cybertronian suns. It’ll be a nice reminder of home.” Ironhide was pleased that Starscream was taking a larger interest in the development of his sparkling. Even after their hard conversation a month ago, he still tended to look morose and disturbed when anyone mentioned his sparking or the youngling itself. “Though, since I think we’ll be on this planet for quite some time, you’ll need ta designate it something the human vocal chords can pronounce. Just for propriety’s sake.” He let his face plates morph into a grin as he gave the other mech a playful shove to get him to move over on the berth. Hydraulics whining –Ironhide reminded himself to let Ratchet do some loosening and oil work on his complaining leg joints- he lowered himself down.

Starscream still looked wary. “I don’t know.” He dragged his optics away and looked at anything in the room but Ironhide, which wasn’t much, “I…I was thinking of maybe…”

“What? Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

Starscream’s eyes finally locked onto the larger mech’s and he stated seriously, “I was thinking of possibly naming it after you. How does Ironstar sound?”

Ironhide flinched and stared at Starscream with shock. “After me? Why?”

Starscream looked away. “Why don’t you want it to be named for you?” Ironhide saw that his entire frame was tense. He didn’t know exactly what was going on here, but he knew it was important. The other mech looked like his world depended on Ironhide’s next comment.

Ironhide’s vocalizer crackled slightly as he answered, “It’s not…that I don't like it. Ironstar’s a beautiful name. I don’t mind, in fact I’m honored. I’m just surprised. I thought that you’d want to name it after…”

Starscream turned to look at him suddenly, optics blaring in anger. “You thought wrong! You think I’d want to remind him and everyone else of… of that every time his name is spoken, of all that went wrong here? Of the other creator he’ll never meet?! That would be cruel. And who knows how’d others would treat him with such a stark reminder of- “ Starscream vented harshly, and choked out a derisive squawk through his vocalizer, shuttering his optics tight, and visibly trying to calm his racing engines, raising his palm to his optics. “And… and what would I call him, anyway? Megastar?” He snorted into his hand.

Ironhide, glad the eminent crisis had been diverted, let out a weak sound of amusement as well. “That is pretty bad. No, what about Megascream? That’s even worse.”

Starscream let out a slightly hysterical giggling whine at the thought. “Megascream,” he choked, “Primus, don’t even joke like that.”

They sat there in surprisingly companionable silence, each lost in their own private processes. The peace went on for quite a while before Starscream glanced up at Ironhide.

“I also thought…” he hesitated, “I also thought that you might consider being a guardian to the little spark… if something ever happened to me. I know you’d,” he paused again, meeting his optics straight on, “I trust you to protect it, more than any other mech here. I... just thought you didn’t want it named after you, because you didn’t want to be associated with anything to do with…”

“No!” Ironhide rushed to assure him, shock spiraling through his systems at being asked to be the youngling’s guardian. “I was just surprised, is all.” He shook his helm ruefully, “Are you sure you want an old rust bucket like me as his guardian? There’s much smarter mechs here than me, as I’m sure you know.”

Starscream looked at him seriously, “I trust you.” Starscream didn’t know why but he did trust Ironhide. “It will be hard for him here, his other creator being who he was. I’d hate to think you’d avoid him as well because of his parentage.” Things were changing around him so rapidly. He blamed the situation he was in. Just under two months ago he was fighting these mechs to the death. Now he was dependent on them for almost everything, and the only companionship he’d had the entire time was this mech sitting beside him. It made his processors threaten to glitch, but there it was.

Ironhide, despite his gruff nature and willingness beat down anyone who called into question his loyalty to Prime and the Autobots had not once threatened him or even made much mention of their conflicting past. He had helped him navigate this strange new world Starscream found himself in without complaint, and only teased him gently when differing views or Starscream’s temperament got in the way of smooth relations.

Starscream couldn’t fathom why the hardened fighter was treating him, a long time enemy who’d destroyed many of his comrades, with such kindness. No other mech behaved this way. Other than Prime and Ratchet, the mechs tended to sneer and snarl at him, if not attack him since the announcement of his sparking. Otherwise, they ignored him completely. Even the idiotic construction workers only said what was necessary to get the job done, and spent their time making inane jokes and comments amongst themselves.

However, Ironhide went out of his way to seek him out, to force him to socialize, if only with Ironhide himself. Sometimes, he was annoyingly mothering, making sure that Starscream was getting enough rest and energon, despite constant reassurances by Starscream and Ratchet that he was. He even started to occasionally call him ‘Star,’ an affectionate name that Starscream had only heard from his Trine mates.

That’s how Starscream knew Ironhide would be the perfect guardian for his sparkling. He was already so protective of it, and catered towards all its needs. He had been doing so for weeks now.

“Ironhide, I know you’ll protect him.” 

Ironhide hesitated, but then nodded his helm. “All right, I will be his guardian, though I’ll be fragged if anything happens ta make him need one. You’re gonna be there for that youngling. Nothings gonna happen ta you.”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Ironhide. Once I’m through sparking, I’m sure I’ll be number one on everybot’s slag list again.” Starscream let a little evil smile twist his face plates. “I’m fine with that. Let them try something. I just needed to know the sparkling would have somewhere to go if…” Starscream flinched as Ironhide suddenly growled and jumped from the berth and started pacing, before abruptly pausing and turning to look at Starscream again.

“You… you just get some recharge. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to talk with Optimus about being reassigned.” Starscream perked at that, missing the intent look in Ironhide’s optics.

“Do you really believe he’ll transfer me? I don’t know if can take another week of those fools.”

Ironhide shrugged his large shoulder plates, an expression he’d picked up from watching Sam, “We’ll just have to see.” He smirked at Starscream as he made his way towards the hangar door. The expression reminded Starscream disturbingly of Megatron. “If he disagrees, I have been known to be rather… persuasive.” He stepped out with a jaunty wave –another learned human expression- and Starscream couldn’t help but grin himself. Things weren’t going to bad after all. He could handle it.

Tbc…


	2. His Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream starts to slowly make a way for himself, with even the possibility of a new friend. The arrival of two mechs he never thought he'd see again may throw all that for a loop.

“Slaggit!” Starscream quickly withdrew his servo from the fuel modifier he had been working on for two weeks now. This was the fifth time today he’d been shocked, and the large rubber coverings he had made for his digits weren’t helping at all! He sighed through his vents and lifted the visor he had added to his mech form for when he was working with dangerous tools. “This is getting ridiculous! The materials they have on the slagging planet are worthless, I swear!”

A light chuckle sounded from the workstation behind him. “Things not going well?”

Starscream turned around, optics half-shuttered suspiciously, to peer at the battle-masked mech behind him. For the time he had been in the science labs, mostly working on fuel conversion of various resources, he and the inventor Wheeljack had hardly said ten sentences to each other. The Autobot seemed wary of him, and Starscream, simply ecstatic to be out of construction work, had not wanted to press his luck. He’d gone with a ‘live and let be’ philosophy towards the Autobots who did not actively seek him out to antagonize him, and it was working so far. He hadn’t even gotten into any real arguments with any of them (The fleshlings didn’t count, it was impossible not to be riled up by the tiny organics).

Why Wheeljack would want to initialize what would seem to be what humans call “small talk” all of a sudden was a mystery to him, to say the least.

He shot the other scientist a slightly haughty look, to save face. “No, they are not. If I could be provided with more than scrap and waste material, this activity would probably be completed by now. I do not at all enjoy this… this…” He searched the internet for an appropriate human phrase, “this ‘stone knives and bearskin’ technique I am forced to utilize.”

Wheeljack was momentarily silent as he too quickly accessed the internet to understand what had just been said. “Well…” he hesitatingly offered after a moment, “It’s all they really have here. We’re forced to use what resources are available, and we can’t provide what we don’t have.”

“I know that, but I don’t for a minute believe that there are no better resources out there somewhere. We’re being skimped.” He turned his back on the other bot, wings hitched high, and wiped the charred organic material off the input port. “When I first arrived here, my initial scans indicated better material than this!”

Wheeljack was quiet for another moment, thinking over the other bots words as he recalibrated the medical instrument he was working on for Ratchet. After he finished it, they’d be able to reignite sparks as long as there was any sign of a spark trace left. He’d been working on it for vorns and vorns, but with the war being so intense his inventions had lost priority over making sure his fellow Autobots survived. He was glad he had more time now, for however long it lasted.

He looked over at the angry mech, and shook his helm, “We can only use what the humans are willing to give us...” He paused, finials flashing a surprised blue, as the other much twirled around, slamming down his laser probe.

“And why is that, I ask?” Starscream shook his head, “Oh, no, don’t tell me! It’s because the mighty Autobots are too noble to take what they need, or even ask for it! You all will let us waste away here before asking for more than the scrap they’ll give us willingly-!” He suddenly paused in shock, looking down at the converter he had just whacked with his tool. It sputtered and smoked, causing a horrible racket and spewed forth a squealing noise that sounded like a Seeker whose wings had just been ripped off.

“Get down!” He lunged at Wheeljack, pushing him bodily behind the work station and bracing his larger body over him as he prepared for the explosion that was surely pending… the explosion that never came.

Exchanging a confused glance with the smaller scientist, Starscream lifted up slowly, still keeping himself between the smoking machine and Wheeljack, and peered over at his own workstation. Nothing happened, and after a minute, the machine stopped shrieking, seemed to hiccup, and two blue-green glowing spheres popped into the output tray with a clatter. They were the size of basketballs and hummed softly in their container.

“Well, I’ll be fragged.”

“What? What is it?”Wheeljack asked from his place on the floor, still pinned beneath the bemused Starscream.

Starscream turned to answer, but before he could, the double doors to the lab slid open, and Ironhide hurtled in, cannons cycling, and a scowl gracing his faceplates. “What was that glitch-spawned horrible noise? What’s going on? Is everybot… oh.” Ironhide froze in shock as he stared down at the two mechs half-hidden by the work bench. Wheeljack was propped up on his elbows, mouth guard lopsided and halfway down his faceplates, with Starscream kneeling over him, pressed between the other mech leg joints.

“Er… I…” Ironhide blinked hard, twice. The cycled his optics on and off a few times. However, the image before his eyes did not change.

Starscream quickly scrambled off the smaller mech, faceplates heating, and staggered back towards the fuel converter. “We thought the converter was going to explode.” He muttered, flustered.

There was a stark silence, during which neither Starscream nor Ironhide would meet each other’s optics. This went unnoticed by Wheeljack who was heaving himself off the floor and wiping down his outer plating with his digits, which had gotten slightly scratched and dusty during the fall. “Slag, I’ll have to go to Ratchet to get these patched… “He looked up at the bot frozen in the doorway, then at Starscream, who was fidgeting and fiddling with the converter controls, “Er… Ironhide? What’re you…?”

Ironhide jumped, having almost forgotten the other mech was even in the laboratory. “Er, right! I heard a horrible noise on my way here! Thought some bot was going into Spark failure!”

Wheeljack shook his helm and picked up his project again, glad it hadn’t been damaged when he dropped it on the table, “No, that was the machine. Made a horrendous racket, but I think our new scientist’s got it working.” He said with a slight smirk as he peered over at the silent ex-Decepticon, “Tried to save my life when we thought it was going to go off. Of course, it was unneeded and ended up with us crashing to the floor, but it’s the thought that counts, I suppose…” He shot Ironhide an amused look.

Ironhide all but ignored him, a line of tension seeming to fall from his shoulder plates as he stepped heavily towards the Seeker. “Mmm hmmm…” Wheeljack just cycled his optics in exacerbation, and went back to his own work. “Finally got the thing functional, did ya?”

Starscream nodded, turning and holding out the two blue orbs for the larger bot to see. “Yes, although I have no idea how. I just hit the slagging piece of scrap.” 

He peered at the fuel orbs and turned back to the machine, considering it, “And these haven’t been tested yet, of course. The converter still needs work, can’t have it threatening to explode every time we use it. I also want to get it producing more than just two orbs at a time, and to see what other organic material I can use to get it running.” He glanced back at Ironhide, grinning, “When I noticed the human worker drones leaving bags of organic material to be disposed from their “lawn,” I thought it was such a waste. Who knew that it could be…What?” He cut himself off and scowled, suspicious of the look Ironhide was giving him.

Ironhide huffed a laugh, “Just good ta see you so invested in your work, is all.”

Starscream clicked, annoyed, and gave the weapons master a slight shove away from him, “Quiet you! What are you doing down here anyway? Don’t you have any work to do of your own, you lay-about?” Flustered, he turned and placed the fuel orbs in a large container in preparation for testing. If all went well, by this time next cycle they’d have a new, easily replicable fuel source to supplement their low energon stores. It was quite the accomplishment for only a short times’ work.

Ironhide shrugged his shoulder plates, barely moved by the other’s persistent pushing, and sat gingerly on the edge of the workbench, “S’not nothing much ta do around here lately, at least for me. Got Mirage ta take my gate shift, he owed me anyway: I still haven’t told Optimus it was him who tripped him accidently into that paint cart. Prime’s still torqued off about that one.”

Starscream couldn’t help but laugh along with Ironhide, “Shows him right for wandering all over the base invisible. Somebot was bound to crash into him sooner or later. I’m surprised it wasn’t those fool twins; they’re always racing about the place.”

Ironhide snorted, “Yeah, well, just be glad it happened after we went ta Prime about reassigning you. He’s been in a right foul mood ever since. Even Ratchet’s avoiding him, and for a mech with a temperament like our medic’s, that’s saying something!”

Wheeljack snickered from his area and Starscream turned back to the machine, shutting it down to its lowest level and shaking his helm.

Ironhide had really ‘gone to bat,’ as the humans say, for Starscream when they approached the Prime weeks earlier about changing his post from wannabe ‘Contructicon’ to a more appropriate setting in the sciences. Prime had been understandably hesitant.

\------------------------------o----------------------------------------------

“I don’t know, ‘Hide. It’s only been a few weeks since Starscream started working at the base. Shouldn’t we wait awhile before putting him anywhere more… sensitive?” Prime intoned seriously in his deep voice, as if Starscream wasn’t standing right there. The Prime sat behind his desk in the large storage hanger that had been reformatted as an office and private quarters for the large mech. There wasn’t much in there but variously sized furniture (from man to mech-sized), a large desk, and a few humongous shelves covered in data pads and paperwork (and one paperweight, curiously shaped like a unicorn), but it served its purpose.

“Yeah, we could wait… if you want ta find your construction bots dismantled and tossed out in the desert soon. He’s going crazy down there! Plus, he’s got more ta offer than what he’s being allowed ta do.” Ironhide paced around the front side of the desk, a scowl plastered to his faceplates. Neither of them was paying Starscream any attention, irritating the Seeker to no end.

“Excuse me~”

“That’s just it. If he’s a threat to the workers, won’t he then be a threat to others on base? Can he handle working with the other Autobots,” queried Prime. “And even occasionally with humans, as well? We don’t have enough resources or leeway to go causing trouble, ‘Hide.”

“If you’d just~” Starscream tried again.

“He won’t! We’ve been talking about it non-stop for awhile now. He knows he’ll have ta work with the little bits and get along with Wheeljack and Perceptor, and any other bot in sciences. He’s promised ta try, and I’ll keep an eye on him!”

“Wait, a breem! ‘Keep an eye!’ How can you-!?”

“You’re certainly taking an interest in this Ironhide.” Starscream gave up and sat his aft down in a corner of Optimus’s office in an appropriately sized chair to wait it out. There was just no reasoning with these Autobots sometimes!

Ironhide scuffed his pede on the office floor and huffed, “You put me in charge of his well-being while he’s with us… I’m just trying ta do my job.” He scowled, “Well, this is part of it. He hates the assignment he’s on, and I don’t blame him! The mechs he’s working with would try the most stable of bots, Prime, and you know it! Starscream’s got a lot more ta offer us than driving in pillions! He’s a scientist.”

Optimus still did not look convinced, and seemed about to respond when Ironhide got a decidedly devilish look in his optics. He sidled up to Prime, placed his digits on the other bot’s shoulder paneling in a placating manner and leaned in close, “If you’d be willing ta give it a try, I’ve got something ta offer that you might enjoy, Optimus…”

Starscream stared in shock at the big weapons master leaning into his Prime’s space and practically leering. Any other time, the hilarious look of shock on Optimus’s face would have overjoyed the sadistic Seeker. Now, he stared silently in dismay of what Ironhide could possibly be offering the larger mech, and right in front of him, no less!

“’H-Hide?” Optimus squawked in a tone that was not at all Primely.

“Oh, yes.” Ironhide leered, moving in just an inch closer. Optimus could feel the warmth pouring off the mech’s personal energy field. “As weapons master and current head of security until and if Red Alert makes contact, I am privy ta all types of… private intel.” He chuckled evilly, and slapped Prime hard on the shoulder, jolting his leader out of his stunned trance, “I could give you all of Ratchet’s private-quarter entrance codes for the next vorn! Think of what you could do what that, Prime! Mind, I’d give ‘em only if you swear not ta let on t’was me who gave them to you. Ratchet’d reconfigure me into a ride-on lawn mower for the little bits to use.”

Starscream’s shoulders slumped as tension drained from them.Primus! That had been getting decidedly uncomfortable. Starscream decided to ignore the fact that he was way more relieved than the issue warranted.

Optimus, however, was choking on his own vocalizer. “Ironhide, that…that’s unethical! It impinges on his rights of freedom as a sentient being! It’s just wrong, and Ratchet’d be so torqued off if he even got a hint of a clue at what’s going on! He’d kill us all, he’d…” Optimus spluttered to a stop, peering at Ironhide with wide blue optics, “Do you really have them for a whole vorn?”

Ironhide chuckled gleefully, “I certainly do, Prime.” He made a gesture towards the corner Starscream was huddled in, trying to avoid both the lunatics’ attention, “Think about it: Give Starscream a chance ta do what he was programmed ta do, and spend a vorn, maybe more, in a warm berth with Ratchet? Or deny an able mech a chance to prove himself worthy, and spend all those long, long nights, cold…and alone. It’s win-win if ya go along with me on this.” 

Prime gulped vocally, and glanced back and forth between the muttering and rocking Seeker in the corner to his maliciously grinning gunner, and sighed. He knew when he’d been caught out, and wasn’t too proud to admit that any advantage he could get on Ratchet could only be a good thing for him, “Done.” He paused, staring seriously at the bots in the room. “Ratchet must never know.”

The weapons master nodded direly, “You’ve gotta do it all subtly. Don’t let on that you have every code. Use only a couple, and only every once in awhile. Make him think you’ve just gotten good at hacking his systems. He won’t figure it out that way. If he comes ta me, I’ll play like I’m having troubling reconfiguring his pass codes ta where you can’t get in… we’ll work together, Prime.”

“Yes,” Optimus declared, “Yes, and it will be glorious.”

Starscream stayed in his little corner long into the night as the other two plotted and sipped contraband high-grade, blocking out the insanity going on in the other half of the hangar. At some point, somebot placed a cube of warm energon next to him, either Ironhide or Optimus, he wasn’t sure. It went unnoticed for quite a while.

He retreated into his own processors, still rocking minutely, logged into the internet, and watched the film Stealth until the other two bots came back down from whatever high-grade energon high they seemed to be on. It was into the early hours of the morning when they finally got around to assigning him to another department.

\--------------------------------------------------o----------------------------------------------------

Starscream shook his helm and shuddered: That night still haunted his recharges.

Ironhide shot him a look at his odd behavior, but must have decided that he didn’t want to know, because he heaved himself up again and turned to Wheeljack. “Hey, Jack, let me walk with you ta the med bay. I thought I’d get my leg gears checked out; they’ve been bothering me some for the past vorn. You’ll pro’lly want to get those scuffs looked at, right?”

Wheeljack placed his project down carefully and stretched his arm joints, groaning lightly, “Alright. Now sounds like as good of time as any other. Slag, but I’m sore. Hopefully Ratchet will have something for that as well.” He made his way over to Ironhide and towards the door, giving Starscream a little wave in passing. Ironhide noticed that Wheeljack seemed to be more comfortable in Starscream’s presence lately. He wondered what that was all about, but was glad for the change: Starscream could use a few more friends on base.

Starscream waved back distractedly, “I’m just finishing up here.”

“Get some recharge soon, Star. Don’t work yourself to the floor plates.” Ironhide intoned as he walked out the sliding doors. Starscream just waved him off irritably, and both the other mechs shook their helms, looks of amusement and slight fondness on their faceplates.

As the door slid closed behind them, the two mechs heard Starscream start cackling gleefully.

“I’ve done it! I’ve practically solved all of our fueling problems in just a few short weeks! That’ll teach Prime and his ilk to place a genius such as me on construction duty! Mwuhahaha-ACK!”

BOOM!

A huge clattering explosion sounded from the lab, and blue colored smoke billowed from underneath the doors. The weapons master and head inventor could only stare at each other in the following silence in shock, optics wide.

A few moments later there was a clang, a groan, and then a long string of Cybertronian curses that rivaled even what they’d heard spew forth from Ratchet’s vocalizer. Both mechs blinked and chuckled weakly.

“He-He’s probably okay.” Ironhide stated, “Best not ta disturb him while he sorts it out… whatever it is.”

Wheeljack only nodded and glanced warily back at the doors where the loud invectives were still sounding from. Wheeljack could only hope that his inventions were undamaged, and that the Seeker would not destroy them further in a fit of rage. Both mechs turned and scurried toward the med bay quickly, not looking back.

\-----------------------------------------------------o---------------------------------------------------

On one side, he had worked out all the kinks in the converter.  
The Autobots (and one ex-Decepticon) were now enjoying the delicious fuel orbs that could be converted from any plant matter, living or dead, and was not nearly as deadly to their pipes and metabolisms as human fossil fuels. This was good for multiple reasons, the most important being that this fuel was clean and didn’t pollute the mechs or the atmosphere with carbon when their systems burned it. Also, they no longer had to ask the humans for fuel, only trash plant material (which they weren’t utilizing anyway) and the fuel worked for both ground and flying type mechs. Prime was currently bartering with the humans for use of the technology. It might just help the organics on this backwater planet from running themselves and their resources dry.

On the other side, Starscream had been coated from helm to pedes in splotches of bright blue gooey organic material, and he had been stuck that way for three whole days.

Nothing he tried helped his condition; not scrubbing in the Autobots’ washing area with car soaps and even bleach; not even Ratchet going at him with a laser scrubber and hot oils. 

It was getting to where he couldn’t walk around in the base without snickers and jeers following in his wake. If one more bot called him ‘Bluestar’, he would not be responsible for his actions. Even the organic little fleshbags were getting into the action. He wondered if he squished one on ‘accident’ would that ridiculous behavior stop.

Starscream was on one of his daily ‘stress flights,’ as Ironhide so amusingly called them, avoiding the science area where Wheeljack, Perceptor, and a few of the humans were trying to synthesize an enzyme to remove the blue coloration from the surrounding area and all of Wheeljack’s unfinished inventions. That the enzyme would also hopefully get the slag off Starscream seemed to be an afterthought.

Starscream made his way over the bleak desert landscape, avoiding the ocean and major military roadways, as not to draw attention to himself. He was in an irritable mood, and the last thing he wanted was to be shot down because some trigger happy flesh worm thought he was threatening their convoy.

His mind was on Megatron, and Ironhide, and his sparkling, who could come any day now. He seemed to be building a life here, despite troubles with a few other mechs (mainly the twins and the belligerent Cliffjumper). Yet, despite all of his current success and Ironhide’s constant help, he was lonely. He missed his mate terribly, insane as Lord Megatron had been. He had cared for Starscream in his own twisted way. He had been looking forward to their sparkling. It pained Starscream’s Spark to think that the two would never now meet.

It wasn’t something he could just get over quickly. He and Megatron had planned a future together around the sparkling. Now he had to remake his life completely over, surrounded by enemies, alone, mostly unwanted, and soon to be a ‘single mother,’ to boot! Life, he decided, was complicated.

Ironhide’s benevolence was Primus sent, obviously.

Starscream was certain that if the big weapons master hadn’t been so intent on protecting him and the sparkling, he’d be in the scrap heap now, sparkling or not. Not all mechs, even Autobots, were as noble as Hide, Ratchet, and Prime. He’d have to find some way to thank them all, especially Ironhide.

So wrapped up in his thoughts was Starscream that he didn’t notice the approach of the other mech until it was too late to do anything but squeal in startlement. Suddenly, a shadow overcast his canopy, blocking out the noontime sun. Starscream gasped as two clawed hands clamped on his wings, steadying him in his flight. He was moments from transforming and powering up his weapons when an overjoyed communications signal blasted through his firewalls and alerted him to the identity of the other.

“Gotta say, bro! Blue’s not really your color. That’s more TC’s thing, right?”

“Skywarp!” He yelped, dizzy with shock and happiness, “Brother! It’s you! When did you arrive? Why haven’t you contacted me?” The hands let go of his wings, and Skywarp whistled in delight as he flew tight circles around his elder wingmate. Starscream hadn’t seen either of his trinemates since near the beginning of the war. Megratron had sent them off to Primus-knows where, and he had not ever had the chance to find out if they were even still functioning.

“I tried! You’ve got your firewalls so tight not even I or TC could get through to you. We’ve been searching for you for orns and orns!” Starscream transformed and pulled his younger brother into an aerial embrace, both toppling for a few thousand feet as they held each other closely. Finally, they righted themselves and flew in a tight double helix over the land, neither wanting to be far from their trinemate. Starscream thought back over what Skywarp had said.

“TC! Thundercracker! Where is he? Is he with you?” Starscream gasped, “He is alright, isn’t he ‘Warp?”

Skywarp laughed gleefully, reaching down with his digits to stroke his brother’s canopy as he glided past, “Slagger’s fine! He’s just slow. We registered you flying from out near this planet’s atmospheric edge. I teleported, of course, when I got the trajectory. He’s just catching up. Drop your firewalls and you’ll probably be able to hear him cursing from here!”

Starscream dropped his tight firewalls (kept up at the Autobot base in case he slipped up and broadcast all of his more… unsavory thoughts about those he was currently living with) and immediately heard his elder trinemate’s irritated chatter over the line. It was a joy to hear.

“…and wait for me, you slaggin’, pit-spawned, sons-o-glitches! To the pits, that’s not fair! Come in, Trine Leader Starscream! Fraggit, come in!” Starscream did a loop in delight, Skywarp tailing him just behind, and shot off in Thundercracker’s direction. He laughed; TC only reserved that sort of language for his trinemates. Many other mechs only knew the big Seeker as silent, and slightly menacing even when out of battle mode. His brothers, of course, knew better.

“Trine Leader Starscream on route, TC!”

“Skywarp following!”

It took only a few minutes for the two younger Seekers to meet up with their elder trinemate. Skywarp continued to fly loops around his bothers as the met, caressed, and shortly plummeted in embrace, before joining them in a fast race across the countryside. People would talk for months about the fascinating and complicated air show they got to see as the Seekers disregarded caution and flew all out in joy at their reuniting. 

After a while, all three Seekers drifted down to land on a large sandy dune, still projecting there joy at being together again after so many vorns apart.

“Where have you two been? I’ve been waiting for you two slag-stains to arrive forever! I was beginning to think something had happened!” Starscream settled himself on a sturdy rock outcropping. They were all very far from any fleshy civilizations (if one could term anything the primitive beings produced as ‘civilized’) so he determined it was fine for all of them to remain in mech mode. He’d keep an open sensor on the area, just to be sure, however.

Skywarp flopped in the sand at his feet, seemingly content to make sand ‘angels’ and roll around, “We got detained! First we got caught up in the war on Tfgilia XIV, then the asteroids that knocked us off course- TC lost a wing! Then we ran out of fuel and had to work for it on Jernio Pax, then…”

“Okay! I get it! You had various disruptions on your way. Why didn’t you try to contact any of us?” Starscream glared accusingly.

TC set himself down on the rocks with a little more decorum than his youngest trinemate and shook his helm wearily, “We did! I suppose we were simply too far out. And by the time we got close enough, someone had his firewalls up so tight that not even his own trinemates could break through.” TC shot his leader an irritated glare. Skywarp just giggled.

Starscream had the wherewithal to at least look a little contrite, “Extenuating circumstances…” he muttered, crossly. He shook himself, wings twitching, and grinned at his brothers, reaching out to caress TC’s helm (as Skywarp was too far away). “I am truly happy to see you, my brothers. I have much to tell you.” 

TC looked at him for a second, bemused. “Can you begin with why you are blue? What… exactly is this material all over you?” TC poked at the blue with a claw carefully, then with more firmness when none of it came away.

“Yes, brother! You’re beautiful markings are all globbed up! What happened to your camouflage colors?” Skywarp prodded a blue pede lightly, and Starscream flinched and kicked his digits away.

“Stop it, fool! That tickles.” The others laughed at him and he scowled, “As for how it happened and what the material is- it’s complicated. You will find out as I tell you of the circumstances on this planet.”

Skywarp looked up from the sand-ship he was building (how he was getting the dry sand to clump together was something Starscream wasn’t sure he wanted to know) and chirped, “We did meet up with a few of the others while searching for you. None of those we met knew what had happened to you!”

TC nodded, “They informed us of the loss of Megatron, however. They told us also of the loss of the AllSpark and the Fallen. It has been a terrible few vorns for the Cause on this little planet, hasn’t it?”

Starscream clicked his vocalizer and nodded, unsure how to broach the subject of Megatron (and all that entailed) with his trinemates. He hesitated, feeling a pang, and then his optics widened as a sharp pain clanked just below his Spark chamber.

“Oh, no…”

“What is it?” Skywarp looked up at his trine leader in concern as the mech gasped and grasped at his chest-plates, “Star? What’s happening?” He gracefully rolled up from his place in the sand, glancing mournfully at the three-story Cybertronian sand-ship he had inadvertently knocked over.

Starscream gasped again, then moaned, “I…I… I didn’t have time to tell you…”

“Tell us what, Star? Are you hurt? Do you have a virus?” TC reached out to steady his trine leader, a worried expression gracing his faceplates.

Starscream gave a slightly hysterical giggle as he let his brothers stabilize him, “A virus? I guess you could call the little parasite that.” He moaned loudly, and turned towards his brothers, “I-I’m sparking. The cool down process must have just ended, I’m about to produce.”

His brothers stared at him in shocked silence. Their responses, when they came, were as polar as the two brothers’ personalities.  
“WHAT?!” Thundercracker roared, cursing.

“That’s great, Star!” Skywarp squealed, “It’s been so long since we had a sparkling!” He danced around Starscream, patting his plating and cooing lightly. TC snarled at him in disgust before turning to his trine leader again.

“Someone sparked you up?! Who? The slagger, I’ll pound his faceplates into sutures for this! Who, fraggit?! He should be here with you, while you’re so close to sparking, not off Primus knows where, probably interfacing with every mech with an entry port!’

Starscream grimaced and pulled a wry smile, “Your great and honorable Lord Megatron would be the culprit, TC.” His pained smile widened at the looks on their faces, before he moaned again, doubling over as far as his Seeker anatomy would allow. Even Skywarp paused in his dancing.

“Oh.” They intoned simultaneously.

TC was the first t snap out of it. “Then…then what are you doing out here all alone. We have to get you back to the other ‘Cons, and to a medic!” He grabbed his brother and turned to Skywarp, “’Warp! Get ready to teleport us both back to the Decepticon base!” 

Starscream had a moment of panic as his younger brother nodded and reached out for him. He had to tell them. There was no way he could return the remaining Decepticons. His sparkling would be taken, and he would be killed or tortured for information! Although they had not mentioned it to his wingbrothers for whatever reason, they had to know about his attempted offlining. He’d done it in a public square, for Primus’s sake! He couldn’t go back, not yet, maybe not ever. Not after trying to kill himself and his sparkling in his moment of insanity. Another mech would kill him as soon as he produced and take his sparkling off who knows where, and for who knows what purpose!

He’d have to explain it all to his brothers. They’d find out soon anyway.

“No!” he gasped, flinching away from Skywarp.

“What? Come now, Star, you need help!” cried TC, trying to pull him back towards them, “You need a medic! We cannot help you to produce! You of all mechs know how delicate the process is!”

Starscream shook his helm, “No. No ‘Cons. Autobots…Autobots!” he pleaded.

Skywarp froze and glanced at his eldest brother, “He…he wants us to take him to the Autobots, TC! He’s finally lost the last of his nuts and bolts!”

TC scowled, “You’re delirious, Star. You need energon and rest! Come now…”

Starscream flinched back again, and growled low in pain, “No… no. You have to trust me. No Decepticons. Take me to the Autobots.” At their continuing doubtful looks he snarled and databurst a set of coordinates to both his wingsmates. “I don’t care what you think! I am your Trine Leader Starscream! You will do as I command, or so help me I’ll have your wings for aft armor! Skywarp, take me to those coordinates! NOW!”

Skywarp hesitated only a moment longer, and then nodded. He gathered his wingbrothers to him and warped to the coordinates his elder brother had commanded. He hoped his Leader knew what he was doing.

The last thing both brothers heard just before winking out of space was a pained growl, spoken so low they both almost missed it: “They better have found that enzyme, I’ll be slagged if the first thing this pit-spawned sparkling sees is his creator covered in goo!”

Tbc…


	3. All That Glitters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes into detail (but not too much I hope) about Seeker Cybertronian births (when not helped by the AllSpark) as I see it for this series. Also, the emotional side of Ironhide shows up a bit more here. Hope you enjoy. Next chapter already on its way.  
> I also realized I use the words ‘gaze,’ ‘mech,’ ‘sigh,’ and ‘sparkling’ way too much. I will endeavor to do better in future chapters!

Ironhide sighed as he watched blue and beige Starscream’s profile get smaller as he headed off into the distance. He then used the computer console set into the gatehouse of the base to raise the energy shield that protected them all from outside attack. Nodding to Cliffjumper, who eagerly scampered away towards the common hangar, he settled himself down for his shift on guard duty.

Ironhide hoped the sparking ‘Con would be alright out there on his own. What if he encountered other Decepticons? What if he finally tripped his sparking protocols? What if, Primus forbid, he crashed and couldn’t communicate? He’d be lost out there, in the desert, with the sparkling, never to be found again…

Ironhide shook his helm and vented at himself in exasperation. The likelihood of any of that happening was very low, and he knew that. Starscream had been taking care of himself for eons before he came to live with the Autobots, and would most likely be able to continue to do so.  He just couldn’t seem to help but worry about the other mech. It was starting to become worrisome to Ironhide how much he’d come to care for the ‘Con in just a few short human months.

Starscream had been irritable today; Ironhide couldn’t really blame him, that blue goop was ghastly, especially in contrast with the Seeker’s beige camouflage and multiple Cybertronian tattoos. He’d actually suggested that the F-22 take a short flight to clear his processors.

Ironhide, usually a master of ignoring his own processors when what lay inside was too disturbing or odd to deal with, could not stop thinking about the Seeker. He was just as protective of the sparking mech as he was with the rest of his team, maybe even more, and that confused him. Here was a Seeker, a mech that worked with those who had slaughtered Jazz, and countless others of the Autobot faction. Many of those mechs had been his friends. Ironhide had watched, helpless, as Autobots were crushed, or melted, or had their sparks ripped out by ‘Cons just like Starscream. Occasionally, although they had not had much interaction for orns as Starscream tended to spend much of any battle up in the air, he had seen Starscream commit these atrocious acts himself.

Why, then, wasn’t Ironhide more hostile, or at least apathetic, towards the Seeker?

Ironhide wished he knew. The ‘Con’s mannerisms had gotten through the gunner's usually impenetrable armor. Starscream had seemed so lost when they had first captured him. Ironhide had even had to force the depressed mech to fuel himself. Starscream still occasionally got a morose, shattered look on his faceplates when he thought no one was observing him. He could always tell when the Seeker was pining for his lost mate, and the future they would never have. It ripped at ‘Hide’s Spark to see, but fraggit if he knew _why_ he was so affected!

Ironhide wasn’t in so much denial that he didn’t see how attractive the tall, slender Seeker was. He had perfectly functioning optics. No, what bothered him was that he had never allowed attractiveness to blind him to another bot’s character before. He was a mech of principles, Primus slag it! A pretty pair of wings, smooth lines, and impressive weaponry had never swayed him before: After all, he’d seen Soundwave after all, and wasn’t running after that evil piece of scrap like an organic in heat.

Yet… the more time he spent with the irritable Seeker, the more that he saw Starscream as something other than ‘just the enemy’. Ironhide didn’t know how Starscream behaved out of battle before Megatron’s demise, but now the mech seemed content to work on his projects in peace. He was also taking more and more interest in his sparkling, and had even allowed a few of the female organics to feel the sparkling move in its chamber (Starscream claims he simply gave up. What could it hurt to let them feel?). He was actually becoming quite the assets to have around the base, his fuel technology opening a lot of doors for the Autobots when it came to dealing with the humans.

No, funnily enough, the Seeker was nothing like Ironhide had imagined.

Not long after he realized his feelings were changing, Ironhide had sought out the advice of his Prime. Despite being several eons younger than Ironhide, Optimus’s wisdom had always surprised and pleased the weapons master. Ironhide supposed that being wise and fair simply came with being a Prime (although, maybe not, thinking of Sentinel).

Optimus hadn’t seemed too surprised by his admission.

 

“Ironhide… out of all my mechs, you have been alone the longest.” He sat forward, taking the gunner’s digits in his own over the desk in a sign of affection, “Everyone else has had or does have a partner of sorts, if not full bond-mates. I am happy that you have finally found a mech whose spark calls to you… even if your choice is a little… eccentric.”

Ironhide jerked his digits away, scowling, “Eccentric?! Prime… Optimus, he’s a fragging ‘Con. Wha’s wrong with me? It’s like everything I thought I knew about myself is changing! This has _never_ happened to me before. I thought I’d offline myself before… before…” Ironhide slumped back into his seat, helm in his digits and optics shuttered.

Optimus sighed softly, stood, and came around the desk. Placing a large hand on the gunner’s wide shoulder-plates, he tried to calm him down. “Love changes everything, ‘Hide. Just look at me and Ratchet. Aren’t we different than we were?”

Ironhide jumped, twisting his neck cabling around to stare at his Prime, “Love? Who said anything- Why would ya-?”

“ _Don’t_ you love him, ‘Hide? It seems… You _are_ different around him than I’ve seen you with anybot. You protect him, you cater to him- and don’t try to tell me it’s all for the sparkling. The way you are with him is more than just simple duty…”

Ironhide remained silent, introspective, gaze fixed on the floor.

Optimus made a low sound of sympathy, and clenched his digits on Ironhide’s plating in a soothing manner. “Ironhide, I can’t tell you how to go forth from here, it’s your decision to make. However, let me give you a bit of advice that helped me.” Optimus settled in the smaller mech-chair next to the weapons master, barely managing to fit his larger chassis into the seat.

 “Many of the higher circle of Cybertronians would not have approved of my relationship with Ratchet. As you know, despite being a senator for many cycles, Ratchet is not a mech of prestigious blood. He was elected by the people.”

Ironhide gazed at his leader in shock. He’d never thought of the repercussions Prime and Ratchet would have faced for their bonding if Cybertron still existed. Ratchet and Prime just _made sense_ to Ironhide, but they had only been bonded for a relatively short time.

Optimus nodded at Ironhide’s look, “It is the one thing I am grateful to this war for giving me. Ratchet and I would _never_ have joined on Cybertron. We would have barely interacted after he became a medic. Yet, I still almost missed my opportunity even though we left the planet together. I knew I was attracted to him, and could easily fall in love with him, but couldn’t face the change- he was not the sort of bot that everyone, including myself, had expected me to bond with, not even considering our differences in age. I am now so grateful that I had the courage to try. I listened to what my spark was telling me. He is now everything I could ever want.”

Ironhide bowed his head and nodded, still uneasy, but understanding what the larger mech trying to get across. “Yer saying I should give it a try.”

“No, I’m _asking_ whether you can afford _not to_ follow your spark and risk missing out on what could be the greatest happening in your long, long life.”

Ironhide hadn’t had an answer to that question then.

He stayed there with his Prime, mostly in companionable silence, long into the night.

 

Shaking his helm, Ironhide gazed around the noon-bright tarmac of Diego Garcia, watching the twins race around any open ground they could find (which wasn’t much) and Cliffjumper waving his arms around as he argued loudly with Mirage about something to do with computer consoles in the recreation area. These mechs, and many others on the base, and those yet to arrive, would not take any relationship he had with the Seeker that didn’t involve weapons-fire kindly.

He had never particularly cared what other mechs thought of his actions, especially if said actions got results.

He didn’t think Starscream cared much for others’ opinions either.

In the end, he had an idea where that left him. He now had an answer to question Prime had posed to him by Optimus. He just needed to figure out a way of going about it all: A way that wouldn’t send the Seeker flying for the hills.

 

Ironhide had just completed his second trek around the base, checking fences and the human-sized gates, and making sure nothing was amiss in the out in the dunes, when the trine appeared. He had just started to get worried about Starscream’s prolonged absence, when the sharp !pop! of displaced air startled him out of his thoughts. He had his cannons primed and trained on Seekers even before the dust cleared from around their pedes.

“Ironhide!”

The weapons master lowered his weapons at Starscream’s pained yelp, but did not offline them as he gazed warily at the other two F-22 jets, “Star, wha’s happening? They got you captured?”

Struggling from his trinemates clinging digits, Starscream staggered over to the force-field barrier, but stopped just short of coming into contact with it, “No! These are my trinemates. I’ll introduce you later.” He gasped, doubling over, “The sparkling is ready to emerge!”

“Frag…” Offlining his cannons, he practically flew over to the gatehouse consol and deactivated the energy field, setting it to online again after all the mechs had stepped into the base. He lurched over, grabbing Starscream by the armor on his arm and proceeded to drag him towards the medical hangar, cursing the Unmaker the entire way. “Ratchet! It’s finally happenin'! Mirage, take my post!”

TC and Skywarp could only stare from the edge of the open area as their wingbrother was practically carried across the Autobot base, not even seeming to struggle as the large Autobot mech-handled him about. Just as Starscream was pulled into the medium sized hangar, he spared his brothers a quick glance and a wry smile, shaking his helm at the frantic mech’s actions.

Skywarp turned his troubled gaze to his eldest brother.

“TC…”

“Yeah, ‘Warp?”

“We’ve missed a lot, haven’t we?” Skywarp stared with wide eyes at his eldest trinemate.

TC sighed through his vents, “It would seem so.”

“What do we do now?” Skywarp asked as he tracked a hesitant-looking slender blue-and-white mech making his way over towards them from a large hangar where a smaller red mech was scowling and waving his arms. Skywarp’s eyes widened when the tall mech seemed to hesitate and then suddenly popped out of existence without even a noise.

“We…we wait and see.” TC said, starting towards the medical hangar to check on his trine leader.

Skywarp made to follow him, only to nearly jump out of his plating when he distinctly felt somebot’s metal hide brush against his arm, although he could see no bot anywhere near him. A whispered “Excuse me…” and an opening and closing of the gatehouse door had both Seekers scuttling towards the hangar quickly, optics wide.

 

 

Ratchet and Ironhide managed to wrangle the writhing Seeker onto a largish medical berth, and just in time. As they stepped back from the berth and Ratchet went to grab his scanner, Starscream squawked as his canopy and Spark chamber popped open seemingly without his say-so. His faceplates heated as Ironhide whirled around to look away, spluttering out his apologies.

“D-do ya want me to wait outside? I-I can…”

“No.” Starscream managed to gasp out, “It’s… alright. I want you here.” He moaned as the enlarged chamber directly under his own Spark casing shifted forward, putting pressure on his own systems. He activated his birthing protocols simultaneously, allowing for his Spark chamber to slowly shift in position to allow the gestation chamber room to move forward. “You don’t have to turn away.”

Ironhide hesitated only for a moment before turning back to the sparking mech and moving to the berth-side, eyes anywhere but on Starscream’s exposed Spark chamber. He took the Seeker’s shaking digits in his own, patting them in a comforting manner. “Yer gonna be ok. The sparkling is okay. Everything is ok.”

Starscream let out a wry chuckle, “Ironhide, calm down. I have done this before, you know.”

“You have?” Ironhide was surprised. Starscream had never mentioned any prior sparklings. He watched as the Seeker’s eyes grew a bit distant, and he nodded.

“A few times. It’s been quite a few~” He gasped as the gestation chamber shifted again, “Quite a few millennia, however.”

Ratchet had finished his initial scans and moved over, physically checking Starscream’s systems, shoving the hovering gunner out of the way when necessary, “Everything seems to be proceeding normally. Any unusual sensations,  or pain in your Spark?”

Starscream shook his helm, noticing his wingbrothers slinking in and standing hesitantly by the hangar doors, watching the proceedings. “Just around the casing. All seems well with the Spark itself.”

Ratchet nodded and moved to place his hands on the gestation chamber, feeling for any abnormalities. Starscream jumped then froze, fighting to keep still.

“Frag, your digits are freezing!” he yelped, suppressing a wiggle.

“Sorry.” Ratchet sounded anything but. “All right, the sparkling chamber is almost fully in position. When it dilates, I want you to hunch forward over my hands and place pressure on the chamber. With any luck, this should be a fairly easy production.”

Starscream nodded again, biting back a whimper as the chamber moved into its final position, pressing against his chassis and grating the sensory nodes there a bit. He unconsciously gripped Ironhide’s hand tight in his own, barely noticing how he was clinging to the other mech. Ironhide winced at the tight grip, but did not attempt to pull his digits away. He stared in awe as he watched the gestation chamber slowly start to dilate open.

Ironhide, in all his long years, had only once been present during sparkling production once before. It had been different. There had been a skirmish going on and a sparked civilian couldn't quite make it off the field. Spark production on the battlefield was a rushed affair, with mechs panicking all around. Ironhide had been instructed to stand guard and help Ratchet with everything he could need to help the writhing son-to-be creator. There had been no time to fully appreciate the awesome act of Sparkbirth.

He always wondered if the two had made it off Cybertron before the end.

Ironhide was entranced. Cast in a warm glow from Starscream’s own Spark chamber, the partially open gestation chamber was lit with a silverish light. Ironhide realized with a shock that he could already actually see the unborn sparkling. The silver and bronze mechling was moving slightly in the clear fluid that filled the chamber, its optics shuttered. Seeker births were amazing. The had fully formed sparklings needing no spark transfer or protoform construction. Creator and child were connected through the whole process and formed an unbreakable bond.  The trade off was the tax on the creator's frame as it used it's own nano technology to build the sparkling's frame. It seemed like a fair price for this beautiful sparkling.

Ironhide chanced a glance up at Starscream’s faceplates, only to find him staring down into his own chassis with a look of both awe and determination. As they watched, the chamber completely dilated and Ironhide reached over to help the Seeker lean was forward. Starscream's faceplate's looked strained as his inner mechanisms slowly detached the sparkling from the wall of the chamber and his frame tried to push the sparkling through the small opening. He moaned.

But just as suddenly as it had started, it was done. With a grunt and a push of Starscream’s internal systems, the sparkling slid out into the medic’s waiting digits with a rush of clear fluids; Ratchet immediately whirled around to take the sparkling to a worktable to clean it and give it the initial medical scans he needed to be sure of its health. Starscream slumped back on the berth with a harsh vent. His Spark chamber slid closed automatically, as his internal systems began to realign themselves.

“You did it, Star!” Ironhide rumbled happily, still clinging to the exhausted Seeker’s digits.

“I did…” he shuttered his optics, “Did you see him, ‘Hide?” He looked up at the grinning gunner, “Wasn’t he beautiful?”

“He sure was.” He placed the digits of his free hand on Starscream’s cheek panel. “Looks just like you, far’s I can tell.”

Starscream’s optics widened in surprise when the big gunner’s hand first touched his face, but he couldn’t hold in an amused snort as he heard Ironhide’s second comment, “Please. He’ll probably grow up to look just like his co-creator with my luck.” He glanced over at his trinemates, who were still standing stupefied in the corner of the medical hangar. “Are you two going to stay over for a tricycle? Get your sorry afts over here and praise your Trine Leader for a job well done!”

Both of the other Seekers scampered over to Starscream’s side, giving Ironhide a wide berth. Placing their digits on Starscream’s armor, they proceeded to coo softly and caress their leader, who sat back with a smug look gracing his faceplates. Ironhide could only stand and stare, marveling at the oddness of Seeker relations, until Ratchet stepped back over, cradling a clicking sparkling over one arm.

“Are we ready to meet our little… er…?” Ratchet paused, realizing he didn’t know the little one’s designation.

“Ironstar,” both Starscream and Ironhide said simultaneously, causing the other two Seekers to jump and stare bewilderedly at their leader.

Ratchet smiled softly, “Ironstar.” He placed the small silver and bronze Seekerling in Starscream’s digits, before reaching out and snagging a tube and cylinder like contraption from a nearby workbench. “When I first learned of your imminent sparking, I took upon myself to make a few sparkling feeding apparatuses and some medical-grade energon. The little one will need to drink an entire one of these before he slips into recharge.” He handed the apparatus to Ironhide, as Starscream was so focused on his clicking and mewling little one that he had not heard a single word said.

Ironhide nodded to Ratchet, “I’ll make sure he gets it.” He looked back down at the Seeker. “In a minute, though. Looks happy enough for now.” Ratchet nodded and moved off to clean of his worktable and instruments.

Starscream gazed at his sparkling’s beautiful red optics and felt his systems melt. He was never more grateful that he was stopped from destroying this small life. “Ironstar,” he said again, meeting the eyes of first his wingbrothers, then Ironhide. Ironhide handed him an object, and after a moment he realized it was a jury-rigged feeding instrument, and brought it up to Ironstar’s clicking denta. The sparkling instantly grasped onto both the instrument and his creator’s digits, bringing them close to his faceplates, and proceeded to feed with a contented whir.

“Oh, he’s beautiful, Star!” Skywarp clapped his digits and danced around in delight, “Isn’t he just, TC?”

TC nodded, stilling watching the weapon’s master suspiciously. “He is, at that.” He met his trine leader’s optics, “but I must ask…”

“TC!” Skywarp stopped dancing and whapped his eldest brother lightly on the arm, “Now isn’t really the time for questions, is it? Can’t you see Star is exhausted? We can ask him about it all later.”

TC looked back down at Starscream and saw that indeed, the other Seeker had his optics half-shuttered, his arm joints locked as he cradled the now-recharging infant gently. He smiled up at his older brother weakly, and TC decided that yes, any questions could wait until their vulnerable trinemate got some much needed recharge.

He wasn’t going to leave him or the sparkling alone with the large gunner, however.

He had just opened his denta to say just this when there was a loud, but strangely tentative knock at the hangar door. Ratchet moved over and wirelessly unlocked the door. TC and Skywarp tensed when the looming figure of the Autobot leader stepped in, allowing the hangar door to slide shut behind him. The other mechs in the room could see the curious faces of several mechs behind their leader, looking disappointed as the door shut and cut off their view.

Optimus stepped up to the berth and gazed down at the sleeping sparkling with a small grin on his faceplates. He then nodded to the two newcomers (who hesitatingly nodded back) before turning to the Seeker lying on the berth.

Starscream gazed up at him. "As you can see, my trinemates are here," he said, nodding towards the two other Seekers. "I give you my word hat they aren't a threat to the base. If you allow them to stay, I will make sure they behave." Optimus stared at the two for a moment, before looking to Ironhide, who shrugged. Then nodded as if to say 'I'll make sure of it."

“I see." Optimus said, "We are about redemption here. You have shown us that you can be trusted, Starscream. If you say that they will join us, then I will give them a chance." He turned to the seekers and held out his hand. "If you can abide by our rules, then you may stay here. You will be provided the same accomodations as Starscream and be placed on a probation period. Just know that the consequences of any foul play will be severe and swift."

Both seekers hesitated, but with a glance at Starscream's sharp glare, reached forward to clasp his hand one by one. Starscream gave them all a lazy smile. "You have our word," intoned TC solemnly. Skywarp nodded enthusiastically, looking confused.

Turning back to the bed-bound seeker, Optimus smiled as well. "I trust all went well? It looks like you and your little one are doing just fine.”

Starscream nodded tiredly, “We are. I’ll be back to slaving away in your laboratories in no time at all.” The two new Seekers shot each other worried looks while the gunner and the Prime grinned at the other Seeker’s penchant for complaining at any time or in any situation.

“Hmm. Well, I know Wheeljack at least will look forward to your return. He wants your help cleaning all the blue off his inventions.”

“They found an enzyme?” Starscream asked excitedly, smiling at the Prime’s answering nod, “Finally! I really had hoped not to still be blue when I produced. I just hope Ironstar doesn’t remember it.”

“Ironstar,” Optimus intoned, looking down at the mechling Seeker, “That is a fine designation.” The Prime switched his gaze to his weapons master, a slightly teasing glint in his optics, “Named after a fine mech, I’m sure.”

The gunner grunted and scuffed his pede on the floor paneling, embarrassed. Gruffly, he looked his Prime up and down, his own faceplates shifting into a wry smile, “An' speaking of accidental paint jobs, yer own armor is looking particularly new and shiny today, Optimus, if I say so meself. Glad to see ya finally got all that nasty paint off ya.”

The two new Seekers just stared as the big Prime scowled and opened his denta to retort, before the smaller medic bustled over and pushed his way between the two to check on his patients. “That’s enough of all that, Prime, ‘Hide.”   He reached over and pried the feeding tube out of the Seeker’s claws, both the new creator and Ironstar now deep into recharge, “Now if you don’t mind, my charges need their rest. You’ll be allowed to stay,” he quickly added, seeing the largest Seeker beginning to bristle, “but I must ask any who do so to be quiet and let this pair rest.”

Turning to the two Seekers he gestured to a few other berths on the opposite side of the hangar, “Please, make yourselves at home. There’s mid-grade in the barrels of energon by the back door: Help yourselves.” He waited for acquiescing nods from the two bemused F-22 jets, before turning to Ironhide. “And you? Will you be staying here, as well?”

Ironhide nodded, looking to his Prime. “If I could have a few cycles off, I could…”

“Done,” said Optimus. “Take as much time as you need. Starscream will need the help. I need to get back to my office. Fulton’s getting the higher-ups to agree to trade the new fuel-producing technology for, well, just about anything we want. I really should be there for that. I just wanted to see how everything was going.” He nodded to the weapons master and headed out, pausing only to place a sharp rap on Ratchet’s aft, and scampering away. Ratchet growled in outrage and threw a wrench (pulling it seemingly from thin air) which just managed to catch the Prime on the helm before the hangar door slid shut, sending him sprawling on top of the gawkers still trying to peer in from outside. Ironhide could hear Cliffjumper yelling to Optimus he was crushing a still invisible Mirage even through the thick metal doors.

“The nerve of some mechs! Serves them all right, the fragging, slag-headed, rust-pitted…” Ratchet muttered, walking to the back of the hangar and pulling a medium-sized mech chair out and dragging it over to Ironhide. Both Starscream and the infant slept through all of this, completely unaware of the chaos around them. “Here.” Ironhide nodded and slid into the chair thankfully, taking up Starscream’s digits in his own once again. Ratchet just shook his head and moved off, returning to working on his several small projects he had strewn about the place and occasionally returning to scan the sleeping mechs.

The two Seekers stayed silent through all of this, watching the interactions around them, and quickly coming to the conclusion that they had been knocked into some sort of alternate universe. TC shot his youngest brother a look that promised that answers would be sought, before they both moved towards the berths Ratchet had indicated for some much needed recharge and refueling.

Before slipping down into the berth, TC looked back at the large ground-mech sitting and simply staring down at his trine leader, a look of contentment on his faceplates. Oh yes, he thought, _I will_ get to the bottom of this, and soon.

TC was getting a distinctly bad feeling about all of this.

Tbc...

 

 

 


	4. These Troubles of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly a big Mikaela fan, but I like her loads more than Carli. So, through some magical turn of events, in this story, everything that happened to Carli in Trans 3 now happened to Mikaela. Use any plot twisting you want to get her here, but there it is. She's on firm 'just friends' status with Sam. I mostly want her here because I have this vision of her loving Ironstar and becoming his on-again, off-again baby-sitter. She won't have a big place in this story.

When his optics onlined again, he already could tell it was going to be a long, long cycle.

The first thing Starscream saw was a pair of tiny bright optics and a clicking set of denta. He quickly realized that Ironstar had come out of recharge and was clinging to his faceplates curiously, prodding him lightly with a small set of claws and wiggling around in happiness when he finally got his creator's attention. He flailed, mewling, and promptly scratched Starscream's right optic.

Wincing, Starscream carefully pulled the wiggling sparkling off his helm with one set of claws and held him aloft, scowling softly. "Produced for barely a day and all ready causing trouble. Are you sure you aren't 'Warp's spawn?" The sparkling only hummed, swinging back and forth from his creator's digits.

"No," a hushed voice came from the side of the berth, and Starscream jumped, and glanced over to see Ironhide sitting in a large chair, smiling. "He's being annoying and curious right from the start. I'd say he's _all_ yours."

The Seeker smiled softly, bringing the clicking youngling back to his chestplates. He vented softly, rolling his engines to comfort the infant, and glanced around the dimly lit medical hangar. His trinemates were still in deep recharge in the back. They wouldn't be up for quite awhile. He glanced back at Ironhide, holding out the arm cradling the sparkling, "Do you want to..?"

Ironhide paused, looking down at the silver-and-bronze mechling Seeker. Ironstar looked back up at him with wide optics before squirming out of Starscream's grasp and kneeling on his cockpit, reaching with small digits for the big gunner and making little whining noises.

"Well, how can I say no ta that?" Ironhide delicately swooped the tiny Seeker up, who squealed delightedly, and lifted him up to his own faceplates, "Well, hello Ironstar: Nice ta meet you."

Ironstar simply clicked, reaching out to explore Ironhide's sensor crown and derma with his claws. Ironhide glanced back at Starscream and was surprised and pleased to find him watching their interaction with a contented and soft smile. Ironhide's spark did a flip in his chamber seeing that expression, and he leaned over and grabbed the other mech's digits in his own. Starscream looked a bit stunned, but did not try to pull away.

"He's lovely, Star. I'll say it again, but he looks just like ya."

Starscream chuckled lightly, squeezing Ironhide's digits, "Thank you, I suppose... We'll have to get him some basic language programming soon. The clicks are cute, but I'd like to have him speak at least basic Cybertronian before too long."

Ironhide nodded his helm thoughtfully, "I'm sure Ratchet has the programs somewhere. If not, Wheeljack'll be able ta whip some up right quickly." He gently trailed his digits up Starscream's arm plating to his cheek, caressing him softly and smirking at the look of utter confusion on the other mech's faceplates. He left his hand there, just stroking gently for a long moment, until the Seeker's own digits came up hesitatingly to lay over his own. A slight noise had him looking into the back of the hangar, and slowly dropping his hand, remembering that they were in the very public med-bay. Shaking his helm to clear his processors, he asked, "And, how are your…er.. brothers? How're they handling all this? Gave me a bit of a scare when ya all showed up; thought they were holding ya hostage." Ironhide set the sparkling down on his large thighplates, where the winglet promptly tried to crawl up his armor, only to repeatedly slide back down.

"They are my wingbrothers, trinemates. The big blue and white one is Thundercracker. The smaller black and purple one is Skywarp. You may have met them in battle a few times, but I don't believe ever face to face, as the humans would say. They…" The Seeker hesitated, "I have not yet had time to tell them everything. I think they're in shock, or at least, very confused. I… I do not know how they will react when I tell them how I came to be…here. And, I will have to tell them or they'll continue to try to take me back to the other Decepticons."

"They tried ta do what?" Ironhide growled lowly, "They can't! It's not safe!"

"Calm yourself. Do you think I am unaware of that fact? No, I will not be going back, My sparkling… Ironstar would be forfeit to the first 'Con to skewer me through the spark. I'd never be allowed to keep him, they'd offline me the first chance they got! And then who knows what will happen to him!" Starscream shuddered at the thought, reaching out with anxious claws for the sparkling, which Ironhide instantly plopped back into his digits.

"Okay, okay…I take it they will probably react badly?" He shot a glance back at the sleeping Seekers. Flyers never seemed to be the most....stable of bots. He'd of course seen Star and his trine do despicable things in the heat of battle, but it was hard to say what Seeker's were capable of when protecting their own, or at least believing they were.

"You have no idea. Especially Thundercracker. He's going to blow a gasket." Starscream smirked and patted the sparkling, "Don't worry. I can handle my wingbrothers. They'll be upset at first, but they'll come around eventually. I plan to avoid the question as long as possible, however." He sat forward, stretching his wings and attempted to heave himself off the medical berth.

"Woah! Wait! Ratchet's not cleared ya to leave yet!" Ironhide shot to his pedes, placing a heavy set of digits on Starscream's shoulder and pressing him down.

"You have got to be joking! I'm fine!" He shrugged off Ironhide's limb, standing swiftly and holding Ironstar close to his canopy. The sparkling used claws and pedes to find hand and footholds on Starscream's frame and locked his joints out of instinct. Noticing this, Starscream cautiously removed his hands from around him, and when satisfied that he was safe and would not fall, turned and started heading towards the hangar doors, wearing his sparkling like a badge of honor.

"Starscream, let me at least get Ratchet and let him do his final scans. He'll just come after ya, if ya don't."

Starscream paused and growled, spinning around and stomping back towards the heavier mech, "Fine! But you had better hurry! I don't have time to be sitting around this hangar all cycle!" He huffed and sat in Ironhide's chair, waving the older mech off irritably. Ironhide, chuckling at the Seeker's petulant behavior, commed Ratchet silently, and received a grumpy affirmative when he had explained what was happening.

"He's on his way." The silenced stretched. Ironhide shifted on his pedes, a bit hesitantly. Starscream was still glaring at him with a hint of a pout. Ironhide wanted to reach over and… no. Now wasn't the time for that. He mimicked a cough, something he had noticed Sam doing while nervous. "We'll have ta speak with Prime about what ta do with the other Seekers. That is, if they decide to stay."

"They will stay where I stay, most likely, though they will not like it. With Megatron gone, they have no loyalty to any other mech other than myself. It'll be keeping them from kidnapping _me_ and running off that will be the challenge." Seeing Ironhide shift restlessly, he waved a set of digits dismissively, "Do not worry, I just need time and space to explain everything…"

He was cut off as a groggy-looking Ratchet came stomping into the hangar, muttering vague obscenities about 'Prime' and 'hijacking his quarters.' He didn't even greet either of them as he grabbed his scanner and moved over to the Seeker and began. Starscream looked over the medics yellow-green shoulder at Ironhide with a look of surprise, before he realized what had the medic's bolts in a twist. He shot the gunner a grin: It seemed that Prime had started to take advantage of the pass codes.

Ratchet grunted, "You seem fine. Take it easy for a few days, no flights for longer than three hours and try not to be in any more explosions. Though… as you are working with Wheeljack, I can see how that could be a challenge." Setting his scanner on the medical berth, he reached into his chassis and removed the feeding apparatus, two large capped containers, and a huge pink sponge. "Here is your "bottle" as the humans would call it. This container, with the feeding glyph on it, is medical-grade energon. Make sure Ironstar gets at least two full feedings a day. The other bottle is the enzyme Wheeljack created for your… unintentional fashion statement." Starscream scowled at the medic's smirk, "Try not to mix them up. A good wash in the racks after the application of this should get it all off. Got get some rest."

Starscream jerked as the yellow mech slapped him lightly on his shoulder armor and strode off, putting his bay back in order and checking on his projects. Starscream decided not to mention that this was _not_ his first sparkling, and that he knew how to care for one. He had been about to walk out without the apparatus and the energon, after all.

"I'll take ya back ta your hangar." Ironhide offered, moving to stand beside him. Starscream simply nodded, and they made their way out into the bright and sunny base, side by side.

When TC came out of recharge, the first thing he noticed was the absence of his trine leader and the sparkling. The only mech around other than Skywarp was the bustling bright yellow medic, working on something in the front of the bay.

He whapped his brother on the helm and hissed, "Skywarp! Get your lazy aft up! Starscream's gone!" TC lowered himself to the floor as Skywarp looked around blurrily, not quite all there yet.

"TC? What's…?" He shook his helm as his optics focused. He looked around and gasped, "TC! Oh no! Screamer's gone! And the sparkling!"

There was a loud clang as TC smacked his brother on the helm again. "Just get down here, and let's go find them." Skywarp scrambled off the berth and they both headed towards the hangar doors, stopping only to accost Ratchet.

Grabbing the medic by the shoulder, TC swung him around. "Where is my brother? What have you done with him, Autobot?"

Ratchet scowled crossly and brushed the clawed digits off his shoulderplates, "I've done nothing to him. He's simply gone back to his room. Now, if your daily idiocy quota is all used up, I'll take you to him." The medic smirked at them, a bit evilly. It unnerved Skywarp.

TC scowled, ignoring the slight, and dismayed that his trine leader had a 'room' anywhere on Autobot territory, but simply nodded his helm and stepped back. It wouldn't due to start a fight on enemy territory before they had found their wingbrother. Skywarp, not having the most complex set of processors, was simply ecstatic to know that Starscream was still on base, and that they wouldn't have to go searching for him again. He bounced lightly on his pedes until Ratchet led them out into the light.

The walk to Starscream's moderately sized hangar was a short one. TC realized that Ratchet must have commed ahead, because the door was rising slowly before they even reached it. Starscream beckoned them in, holding a claw up to his denta for silence, and waved Ratchet off back to his hangar. The medic left without a word.

"Ironstar's in recharge. Do not speak loudly. Especially you, 'Warp." He sent his excitable younger brother a glare. Skywarp immediately stopped his bouncing, glancing down at the infant Seeker curled up on the berth.

TC managed to whisper, even in his urgency. "Starscream! What is going on here? Why are you staying with these Autobot scum?" He grabbed his brother by the shoulderplate and shook him, "Are they holding you hostage?" It didn't seem like it to TC, but what other explanation could there be?

Starscream plied his brother's digits off. "No, if you recall, when you first contacted me, I was outside the base. In fact, I asked you to bring me here. That alone, and the fact that I am not locked in their brig, would suggest I am not a captive."

"Then why are you here!" At Starscream's glare, he lowered the volume of his vocalizer, "Why did you need to come here to produce? I don't understand what is happening." Skywarp nodded his head furiously in agreement, optics wide and curious.

Starscream vented softly and dragged his trinemates closer to his frame, "I will explain everything to you both in time. For now, you must trust me, as your trine leader, when I tell you that I am far safer here than with the other Decepticons. I have to stay here… and you both can stay here with me."

TC and Skywarp looked shocked, hugging their leader close. Skywarp gulped and asked, "But _why_ , Screamer? Why do we have to stay with the Autobots? Aren't you sorta the leader of the Decepticons now? Why can't we just…?"

Starscream shook his helm before burying it between 'Warp's shoulderplates and neck cabling, "It wouldn't be safe for the sparkling, or for me, to go back."

TC pulled away slightly, gazing down confusedly at his leader. "What? Why? No bot would dare hurt a _sparkling_ , especially not the sparkling of their new _leader_." TC huffed irritably, "Plus, we'd be there! You'd have someone to help you raise it, and protect it! I don't understand this at all. It makes no sense that you are here!"

Starscream winced. He had really hoped to be able to keep this from his trinemates for a bit longer, but he should have known that at least TC could never let it go without a fight. He had no desire to lie outright to his brothers. Deceiving other mechs was fine, but this was his _family_ , fraggit, and they'd be devastated if they found that he had lied or kept things from them for too long. They'd find out the truth soon anyway, so it should be from his vocalizer first, and not third-hand from some random mech.

Now, if he could only make himself say it.

Looking back on that day, he had come to truly realize how far out of his processor he had been. The thought of permanently offlining himself had not ever crossed his mind before, no matter how dire the circumstances. The loss of the battle, combined with the loss of his mate, and the knowledge that he was a lone mech, sparking, and in enemy territory had most likely fried his logic processor, but still. No bot would ever accept that as an excuse. They would not accept any excuse for such weakness, at least not the Decepticons.

"Skywarp, TC…" He shivered, which only caused his wingmates to tighten their hold on him and look ten times more concerned. He cursed himself for making the situation worse, and before either of the other Seekers could say another word, he simply started speaking and didn't stop, trying his best to ignore the increasingly horrified looks on his brothers' faceplates.

"I was high up above when Lord Megatron died. Yet, I saw the entire thing as clear as if I had been standing right next to him. There was nothing I could do. I was too far away, and the battle was intense. I did not want to endanger the sparkling by getting between Prime and Megatron. I was going to run back to base and wait for the inevitable retreat to be called: We were not winning this battle." He shivered again, clasping at his trine, his vocalizer stuttering, "He-he never got the chance to call it. You… I can't… it was horrible! The way he died! At first I was terrified, there was barely anyone left alive, not a single mech on Earth that I trusted, and no one but Megatron knew I was sparking. I…I just got so angry."

"Poor Star!" Skywarp activated his teleporter and had them all reclining on the berth. Starscream paused in surprise at the sudden move, but doggedly went on.

"I barely remember flying down to land beside Megatron and the Autobots, I was blinded by fury, I guess. The next thing I remember is standing in the square surrounded by mechs holding a piece of Megatron's armor. It was… it was like a hallucination It didn't even feel like it was me doing this, more like I was a spectator on the sidelines, unable to stop it, unable to help myself…"

He looked both of his brothers in the optics before shuttering his own and simply gasping it out, "I tried… I tried to offline myself. I tried to rupture my spark chamber."

The sudden silence after his statement was deafening.

TC said nothing, his claws frozen where he clasped Starscream's shoulder and wing. Skywarp, on the other hand, immediately started whimpering in confusion and backing away from both of them. His optics were terrified, and Starscream didn't know how to comfort him.

"What…? How could you..? Starscream!" The use of his full name said enough about how upset Skywarp truly was, "You'd leave us like that? You'd abandon your own trine? TC and I would have gotten to this horrible planet and never found you. Only the ripping of our own sparks would have let us know you were dead!" Skywarp scrambled to his pedes, waving his arms in the air, "Of all the selfish, glitch-headed- _How could you_!" And suddenly he was gone. Through the bond, Starscream could tell he had not gone far, but it felt like millions of Earth miles when he was this angry and lost. Starscream only hoped he could rectify this in some way, but feared that there was no way to right his wrongs.

He turned to his elder trinemate, only to almost be thrown from the berth from the force of the punch that landed on his faceplates. He grunted, but did not retaliate, only looking up at TC with sorrow in his optics, as the other glared down at him. It was his trines' right to punish him for such selfish, self-serving behavior.

TC was venting harshly, obviously trying to physically calm himself down. His helm was bowed and his optics dull. He stood and pointed down at Starscream, still not looking at him. "He's right. Fraggit, Star! How could you do this? Now I know why you can never return to the other Decepticons. This show of selfish _weakness_ would _never_ be tolerated from a leader! And while sparking! Didn't you care about Ironstar at all?"

Starscream moaned lowly, shuttering his optics and rolling away from his brother's harsh words. He spoke to the barren hangar wall behind the berth. "I was so lost, TC! You don't know what it's been like here for all these vorns and vorns! You weren't here. I had no one. I know it's no excuse~"

"There is no excuse!" TC yelped, stomping a pede hard enough to rattle all the shelving units in the hangar. Something, it sounded like empty energon containers, crashed to the floor. "There can never be an excuse! What you tried to do was horrendous! Do you have any idea what it would have done to us had you succeeded? What it would have done to _Skywarp_? What it... would have done to _me_?" Starscream didn't answer, and the larger Seeker let out a frustrated snarl. "Frag you, Starscream! I…I have to go. I have to get out of here."

Starscream shot up on the berth, looking imploringly at his brother, "Please, Thundercracker! Don't leave!"

TC shook his helm, backing towards the hangar door, "I… I just need time. I think we all do. I will be back, and I'll bring Skywarp. We'll work this all out then… somehow."

Starscream nodded at him mutely, pleading in his optics, and flopped back onto the berth with a clang and a moan after TC had left the hangar. He buried his faceplates in his digits and his vocalizer cracked in a sob. He wished Cybertronians could cry like the fleshies did. They could mimic it, sure, but it wasn't real. It gave no relief or release. Maybe if he could cry, it would help him not to feel so torn inside, but he doubted it. He truly doubted it.

Ironhide paced back and forth worriedly, two hangars down from where he knew all three Seekers were currently talking, or arguing, or, frag, they could be interfacing for all he knew. He wanted to barge in there to make sure Starscream and Ironstar were fine, but he had a feeling he would not be welcome right now. He knew from what Starscream had said, he needed to work out his troubles with his wingbrothers on his own.

But, slaggit, did it have to take so long?

He was just getting ready to give up and head to the quarters he shared with Wheeljack and Perceptor (an odd mix, he knew, but Prime's advances had made it impossible for him to share quarters with Ratchet and he'd be damned if he was living with the Twins and Mirage) when there was a quiet crackling sound out in the desert. He glanced over to see the youngest Seeker Skywarp out sitting on a large rock-outcropping that was still inside the energy barrier, helm in his hands. He looked miserable. Ironhide wondered if he should go say something to him. Would it be welcomed? Would he be attacked? Shrugging his shoulderplates and figuring that he had his cannons if anything went awry, he crossed over to the little used mech-sized gate and stepped out.

The Seeker glanced up at his approach, and Ironhide hesitated, but when the other mech did nothing but stare, he continued until he was standing next to the large rock and looking up at the flier. At first, he didn't know what to say. He thought then that he should have planned this better.

"Er… you okay?" Ironhide felt like shooting himself. _Of course_ he wasn't okay! Just look at him!

Skywarp sniffled and fidgeted, "No."

"Oh…" Ironhide hesitated, "Wanna talk about it?"

Skywarp looked surprised, "To you? Why would you care? You're an Autobot! Aren't you…?"

Ironhide huffed, "Course I am! That doesn't mean I can't try ta help you." Ironhide paused, thinking that less than a vorn ago, it would have meant just that. Starscream moving in had flipped all their lives around. "Name's Ironhide."

Sniff. "Skywarp. Seen you fighting on the ground before."

The big gunner settled himself on a low rock, trying to appear as non-threatening to the young seeker as possible. "Why don't ya tell me what's wrong?"

The small flier hesitated, obviously unsure how much he should share, but then seemed to change his mind and spewed forth everything in one go, waiving his arms wildly and teetering on the rock, "Starscream tried to leave us! He tried to hurt himself and take himself offline! He didn't even think of how much that would have hurt us when we felt it and found out what happened. Or, how shamed our entire trine would have been, forever! All those vorns of searching and trying to find even a trace of him, and he would have left us with nothing! And, that's not even mentioning the sparkling." Ironhide winced. That was going to be a sticky subject for a long time. "I don't understand why he would do this! To all of us!"

Ironhide stopped to think, trying to put it into words he knew the Seeker would understand. Starscream had only spoken of the entire situation once to him, in hushed tones late in the night. Ironhide would have been reluctant to share that sensitive and personal information with anybot, but Starscream had told him that trines shared everything. Ironhide knew he'd have wanted Skywarp to know.

"He… he told me that he felt so lost. His mate had just died, everything was falling ta pieces around him, and here he was alone, in enemy territory, carrying the Spark of his dead leader. Starscream admitted that he panicked, because he felt he had no one ta turn to. I… I know it's no excuse, and that its changed all our lives, but you shouldn't think he didn't care for you or your brother. In fact, I think it was the _lack_ of his trine that made him react the way he did. He... just had no one ta turn to."

Skywarp looked down at him, miserably, "So it's our fault?"

"No!" Ironhide insisted, "No. Course not. But… don't be too hard on him. He needs ya now more than ever."

As Skywarp pondered this in silence, Ironhide saw the door of Starscream's hangar open and the big blue and white Seeker emerge. He looked around for a moment, before spotting Skywarp, and rushed over with a scowl on his faceplates. Exiting the gate, he shot Ironhide a suspicious look before ignoring him and turning to his youngest trine mate.

"TC…?"

"Skywarp, let's get out of here." When his brother began to protest, he held up a set of digits, "Just for a little while. We won't abandon him, I promise." Turning to Ironhide again, he sneered, "If you would be so kind as to let down your barrier…?"

"Name's Ironhide, and sure." Ironhide stood and walked back towards the gatehouse to give the two brothers some privacy. Remembering what Starscream had said about kidnapping, he'd post double guard duty until the Seekers returned, just in case they came back with…friends.

When he reached the gatehouse, he lowered the energy field briefly, and watched it shimmer back into place after the two Seekers popped out of existence. Shaking his helm, he commed Mirage and Wheeljack to join Cliffjumper on guard duty, and informed Optimus of the situation, before making his way to Starscream's hangar. Instead of comming him, he knocked gently in the human way, thinking it felt less intrusive. "Star? It's me, Ironhide."

The door rose silently and the gunner entered the dark hangar in silence. All of the lights were off except the one shining over Ironstar's small berth, which itself was on its lowest setting. The weapons master could barely make out the outline of the Seeker on his own berth, facing the back wall.

"Starscream?" He ventured forth and placed a servo lightly on the Seeker's wing.

"They hate me," was the only answer, accompanied by a deep shuddering intake through his vents.

"Oh, come now. They do not." He gently rolled the Seeker over so he could see his optics. They were dull, without much luminescence. Ironhide recalled seeing this look on the younger mech's faceplates right after they had carried him in from the battle field. The gunner's worry shot up a notch. "They're just worried, and hurt, and scared for ya. I only talked ta the young one for a few minutes, and even I could tell that."

Starscream sat up, peering at the gunner curiously, "You talked to 'Warp?"

"Yeah, for just a moment before he and TC left the base. They said they'd be back. They wouldn't come back if they didn't still care for ya."

"I've messed everything up so badly." Starscream gasped as the gunner grabbed his helm in both hands and held him gently.

"I'll be here to help ya fix it, Star. You're brothers will be, too, you'll see. They just need some cooling off time, is all." Ironhide couldn't help himself, he leaned forward to nuzzle his helm gently across the Seeker's. He just wanted so badly to comfort this mech, to make him feel wanted. To see him smile like he had been doing more and more often the past few cycles. He waited for Starscream to react negatively, but when all the leaner mech did was sigh appreciatively, he continue his nuzzling, pulling the Seeker close to his chassis and holding him tight.

Starscream, for his part, was caught somewhere between a system shut-down out of shock and pure bliss. He couldn't believe that this was happening, that the gunner would ever even want to touch him this way. Not after all he'd done. Not after knowing _who else_ had touched him. He twined his arms around the gunner's neck cabling and nuzzled right back. Ironhide started to slide his digits lightly up and down his armor, pausing to stroke his sensitive canopy glass. Starscream gave a low moan at this, and suddenly he was being hiked up into Ironhide's lap and a pair of soft lip components was being placed on his own in a lingering kiss. Starscream jumped slightly in shock.

Ironhide hissed in pleasure as his chest armor scraped against Starscream's canopy, causing the Seeker to let out a keen. _Primus._ This was wonderful. It had been _so_ long…He had moved to reach around the Seeker to caress his wing joints when a squeal and a few high-pitched clicks sounded from Ironstar's berth. Both mechs froze, glancing over at the infant, only to see him reaching out for them, looking as if he wanted to join the two mechs in their 'play.'

Crisis seemingly forgotten for now, Starscream reluctantly slid off of Ironhide's thighs and strode quickly over to his sparkling, picking him up and swinging him high over his helm. Ironstar squealed again, delighted, before latching himself onto the Seeker's chest and clicking in a way that somehow conveyed his hunger. Chuckling, Ironhide stood, cooling fans clicking on in an attempt to calm his charged frame. He grabbed the apparatus, filled it from the energon container, and handed it to the mewling mechling. Ironstar instantly stopped whining and got down to the serious business of refueling.

"Still causing trouble, I see." Ironhide rumbled happily, moving in close to the pair and wrapping his arms around both. He flushed as he looked at Starscream, who looked just as flustered, but did not try to push the gunner away. Ironhide nuzzled his helm to his once more, sighing. "You're never going ta get any rest with that one around. You're going to have ta start loaning him out ta the other mechs on base just ta get some peace and quiet."

"I'm sure TC and Skywarp would be happy to take him for a while… whenever they get back, that is." Starscream started to look sad again, so Ironhide hurried to change the subject,

"Why don't we take him out to meet some of the others. Ratchet and Optimus are the only others to have seen him, and even then he was mostly in recharge. Plus, we can ask Wheeljack and Ratchet about those language programs."

Starscream hesitated before nodding, "If you think it's okay to do so. I don't want anyone to attack me while Ironstar is around…"

Ironhide growled, squeezing the Seekers tightly in his arms. Ironstar let out a squeak and a set of reproaching clicks, abandoning the feeder. "They'll have ta go through me ta do so." He calmed himself, "At any rate, I think they'll all be too excited about the sparkling to try anything. No bot's seen one in orns." He let the Seekers go, backing up a pace. "Don't be too alarmed if a few mechs want ta hold the little bit. Plus, I think it's about time ya started interacting more with the others, getting to know them, and vice versa, as the humans would say. It'll go a long way towards smoothing relations, and me and Wheeljack can't be the only mechs you talk ta on base _forever_."

Starscream was dubious about the likelihood of him ever getting along with the likes of the Twins, or Cliffjumper, who seemed to be dead set on provoking him into some sort of confrontation. He had managed to avoid a fight so far. He didn't want to press his luck by venturing into the Autobot's private space. However, he supposed he couldn't hide forever, as it was not in his nature to do so. He'd just simply have to tread carefully, especially with Ironstar around.

The common hangar was packed with mechs and a few organics when Ironhide, followed closely by Starscream and Ironstar, stepped in. The fleshling, Sam, was the only organic Starscream recognized, and he groaned at being in an enclosed space with both of the creatures who defeated and killed Megatron at some point. Sam, Optimus, the small yellow scout Bumblebee, and an unknown femme fleshling sat around a large table (the fleshings sat on it) and they were all staring intently at what seemed to be miniscule rectangles of dead and processed plant material with markings printed on them. The two mechs involved in this activity moved the objects with care, using the smallest set of probes they probably owned, and Starscream supposed they had to have their optics set on a high magnification just to see the printing. As he watched, the femme placed down all of her rectangles and said, "Read 'em and weep, boys. Full house." The mechs and Sam all groaned and threw down theirs as well, as the femme cackled and collected a mound of round, synthetic discs from the table top.

The yellow scout had his radio going, softly playing some organic music. A quick internet search provided the name "Life is a Highway" to match the tune.

In the opposite corner, Cliffjumper, Mirage, the twins, Wheeljack, and Ratchet were all gathered around a large projector screen dangling from one wall. An animated film was playing, and seemed to be coming to a conclusion, and all the gathered mechs looked horrified. Ratchet, with wide optics, turned and called out to the table where the others are sitting. "Sam! That was horrible! Why did you want us to watch that?"

The organic looked confused, "I thought you'd like it..."

" _Like_ it? Well, I guess the beginning was alright, but the rest…"

The red twin piped up, "Humans are horrible! Why would they do that to the poor mech? They're worst than Decepticons!"

Sam just shook his head and shrugged, turning to Optimus who looked down at him questioningly. "What are they watching?"

"It's an old cartoon movie I watched as a kid. I thought you'd all like it, it being about a giant robot from outer space. It's called _Iron Giant_. I don't know why they're all freaking out."

Optimus did a quick internet search for the movie plot and shuddered, thinking that it was ghastly as well, but declining not to mention that fact to Sam, as he seemed to hold some sentimental fondness for the film. That poor mech… he shuddered again.

"I guess that I should go tell them not to put in to other film I suggested. I have a feeling they won't appreciate _The Matrix_ trilogy as much as I thought." Optimus didn't even want to know. As he helped Sam off the table, he noticed the three mechs standing in the doorway and beckoned them over.

"Ironhide, Starscream, come and sit with us. And this must be Ironstar; it is good to see him awake." The three mechs moved over and sat, Starscream with only the slightest hesitation. It wouldn't due for anybot to notice his wariness. Ironstar, oblivious to his creator's worry, immediately clambered onto the table and began exploring the objects he found there, clicking excitedly. The cards and other toys were quickly forgotten as he spotted the organic femme. With a squeal, he rushed over and began prodding her, pulling on her filamentous brown head covering, and pulling her by her shoulder joint to her feet.

Optimus blinked, "Perhaps we should warn Ironstar to be careful with Mikaela. She is rather fragile."

Mikaela, occupied with the sparkling Seeker, who still stood a head taller than her despite obviously being the infant she had heard so much about, didn't find it necessary to reproach Optimus for referring to her as 'fragile.'

"H-hello! Um… nice baby-bot, good baby-bot. Baby-bot doesn't want to break Aunty Mikaela's arm, does he?" She tried feebly to escape his tight grasp.

Starscream clicked lightly to catch Ironstar's attention. When the mechling gazed up at him, gesturing to the scared femme excitedly, Starscream couldn't help but grin evilly, "Ironstar, no. Let the fleshie go. They are soft and pop easily."

Ironstar pouted, but let Mikaela go obediently, clicking softly as she backed up a few steps. Rubbing her arm, she smiled waveringly at the sad-looking mech, and leaned forward to pat one of his hands.

"Hey, it's okay, little guy. Just be careful and ask before picking me up next time, okay?" Mikaela was unsure if the mechling had understood as he promptly flopped down on the table and started to build a complex structure resembling a building out of the cards and chips. Mikaela only shrugged, smiled up at the other mechs, and sat down next to him to help, though she was unsure how the infant was getting them to stand in the first place.

Optimus ginned down at them before turning to Ironhide and Starscream. "I take it all is well?"

They both nodded, and Optimus noted with amusement how close Ironhide was sitting to the Seeker, who, in turn, did not seem to mind such close contact at all. "Yep, Ironstar is great. Already making as much trouble as he can."

Starscream simply nodded in agreement.

In an effort to include the Seeker, Optimus turned to him. "And your trinemates? Where are they? They should be getting from their flight soon, correct?

Optimus instantly regretted his words as the Seeker's eyes dulled in sadness and Ironhide sent him a glare across the table, "Er… yes. They should be back any time now. They just….needed some fresh air, as the humans would say."

The following awkward silence was broken by the sound of Sam clambering up the ladder set into the side of the table. "I convinced them to skip _The Matrix_ and go right into _Bicentennial Man_. I think that one is…. Starscream!" Sam yelped and backpedaled, just now noticing the mechs that had joined the table.

Starscream watched the little organic panic and cycled his optics derisively, "Calm down, fleshie. If I had wanted to harm you, I've had plenty of opportunity to do so before _now_ , when I'm surrounded by Autobots. I have seen you and the scout wandering around base before, you know."

On the other side of the room Cliffjumper bristled and made to stand, only stopped by a short glare from Ironhide, and Optimus shaking his helm negatively. Muttering, he sat back down to watch the film, one set of audios firmly set on the mechs across the room. Starscream cycled his optics and grinned, glad to see the other mech so flustered.

Sam, who had been trying his hardest to avoid any section of the base that the Seeker had been rumored to be in, just nodded nervously, still backing away.

Starscream huffed, and Ironhide chuckled. "Give the boy a break. You have to admit, you have tried to kill him a few times." Starscream just scowled, and Sam looked on amazed as Ironhide sent the mech a soft smile in return. Hearing a noise, he turned to see an extremely small (for Cybertronians at least) silver and bronze mechling building a complicated card house with Mikaela. Shooting the other mechs one last glance, he wandered over and was promptly introduced to Ironstar by Mikaela. The infant prodded him curiously for a moment, clicking, before handing Sam an unopened deck of cards and gesturing to the structure in an obvious request for him to come and play. Sam just shrugged and settled down. He'd always been good at card houses, anyway.

Ironhide and the other mechs at the table began talking about various unimportant things, seeking Starscream's input every once in a while. Optimus noted at one point that it was good to see him not 'looking so blue' and Starscream was tempted to comment about the Prime's own newly refinished paint job, but decided not to press his luck. After awhile, Wheeljack and Ratchet wandered over, and he found himself engaged in a conversation about language programming for his sparkling. Inwardly, he was amazed at the diplomacy of the Autobots. How could they sit here and converse with him as if he hadn't been shooting his null rays at them less than a vorn ago? The Decepticons would have tried to take him out by now, multiple times. He was very grateful for Ironhide's buffering presence to balance him.

The sound of his sparkling's clicks had him looking down. Ironstar was reaching up wordlessly, trying to grab the feeding apparatus lodged in Starscream's chassis. Sighing at the constant hunger of mechling Seekers, he pried it free and handed it to him. Ironstar sat back on his aft and started refueling, staring up at the mechs around the table with his typical curiosity. Sam, who had followed the mechling towards the others with Mikaela just behind, glanced at the feeding infant, then wandered over to Bumblebee and patting his chest armor to get his attention.

"Bee?" He queried when the scout looked down. He glanced curiously up at the scout's vocalizer, then around at the faceplates of all the other mechs around the table. "Back in the beginning, y'know, before I knew you weren't just a car? When I fueled you up at gas stations all those times, where did it go? You don't have a mouth, or any other holes that I can see where a fuel rod might fit."

Sam was met with a sudden silence, and the Bee groaned, placing his helm in his hands and shrunk back into his seat, seemingly trying to make himself look as small as possible. First Ratchet, then one by one, all of the other mechs at the table, and even those across the room started snickering, all having heard Sam's innocently asked question. Even Starscream couldn't hold back his sniggers at the mortified look on the scout's face. The common hangar was suddenly filled with the staticky laughter of all the mechs present, except Bee himself. Even Ironstar was giggling and clicking, though Starscream doubted the infant knew what he was laughing about.

Sam looked back at Bee, and was surprised to have to look down to see him. He was almost totally underneath the table at this point.

"What? I don't get it?" He shot a confused look at Mikaela, who only shrugged. All the other mechs were laughing to hard to answer.

Tbc…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The silliness at the end is just something I've always wondered. Bee doesn't have a mouth. How does he fuel up? Also, he's just uncomfortable about Sam asking about any of his 'holes' in front of his teammates. XP   
> I have a oneshot Sam/Bee story planned, it may even be out later today. Sam learns more about Bee's various holes. (read: its all porn, baby). It can be seen as part of this story line or not, but takes paces about four years in the future, when Sam is 25.


End file.
